Jolene
by meetmeinstlouie
Summary: "Please don't take my man." A woman, her husband, and the woman he loves. AU. Inspired by the classic song by Dolly Parton.
1. The Other Woman

She came through the front door, closing it slowly to make sure it didn't groan. She let out a breath when she saw the TV was off; surely he was already in bed.

In the doorway, she made out his sleeping form. He breathed deeply, evenly, drowned in slumber. In the dim light of the bedside lamp she could see his mouth slightly open, his thickset eyebrows. That errant curl on his forehead. It was still mostly black, but silver strands had begun making their way through his hair. A smile melted across her face. He looked like the boy she remembered from years ago. The boy she had grown up with, played with, shared dreams with, fallen in love with.

 _If only you had stayed that way. If only you could have been happy with me._

 _Before I lost you._

 _To her._

He mumbled, turning more into the pillow. She flinched and balled her fists. Whatever he dreamed, she hoped he wouldn't verbalize it. She prayed for him to spout nonsense gibberish, anything but-

He whispered, called out a name, loud in the quiet.

She felt the damned tears coming again, and swore under her breath. It was just as well she had sent the note, asking to meet tonight.

She turned and walked out of the old house. Behind Pine Mountain, a distant thunderstorm rumbled.

000000000000000

The windshield wipers squeaked as they fought the downpour. The lights from the all-night diner gleamed by the highway, a balm to her eyes tired of the dark. She parked the car, leaving the key in the ignition. The radio played against the drumming rain.

 _Your beauty is beyond compare_

 _With flaming locks of auburn hair_

 _With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green_

 _Your smile is like a breath of spring_

 _Your voice is soft like summer rain_

 _And I cannot compete with you_

 _Jolene_

She pounded the steering wheel, gasping sobs pouring out. The other woman's eyes weren't green and her name wasn't the same as the title, but the rest of the words in the song might as well have been written about her.

The woman she had asked to meet tonight. The woman she wished she could forget.

The woman her husband spoke of in his dreams.

 _And I can easily understand_

 _How you could easily take my man_

 _But you don't know what he means to me_

 _Jolene_

She wiped at her eyes, feeling her mascara smear. She fumbled for a Kleenex, cleaning her face as best as she could against the glowing light of the Mountain Dew sign. She took a deep breath. _I must be calm. I can't let her know how she's affected me._ A grim, broken bark of a laugh escaped from her. Of course _she_ knew how this affected her, how _she_ affected his wife! Everyone in the county knew about it!

The rain lessened until it became a light mist. She got out of the Cadillac, the sound of the car door echoing across the parking lot.

The familiar truck was parked under a nearby light. She sucked in a breath as she peered through the rain-spattered window.

Her.

Sitting in a booth alone, a cup of steaming coffee between her hands.

She went into the women's restroom first, to check that there were no marks left on her face.

000000000000000000

She sipped at the coffee without tasting it. Tapping on the ugly table, she looked up as someone came in the door. Her heart jumped, then resumed its normal rhythm as two truckers were greeted by the bleach-blonde hostess.

She sighed and pulled out the note from the pocket of her windbreaker. It had been folded and re-folded so many times in the last week the thin paper almost tore.

 _Elsie,_

 _We need to talk. Meet me at Lucy's Diner at 11 pm next Thursday night. That is, if you're not a coward._

 _Alice_


	2. The Meeting

"So you did come. I wasn't sure if you had the nerve to meet me face to face." Alice kept her voice steady as she sat down across the table. Her mind screamed one epithet after another as she looked into the other woman's dark-blue eyes.

"You wanted to talk, so I am here." Elsie's voice was quiet.

Alice flinched at the sound of the hardened _r_ , the Scottish lilt. She disguised it by setting her purse next to her. She folded her hands, her wedding ring showing.

"It's quite simple, really." She forced herself to look Elsie in the eye. "If you care at all about anyone other than yourself, you will leave town. Go back to Lexington to your sister's, or somewhere else. I don't care. But leave us alone. If you claim to care for Charlie, you need to leave. For his sake." _And mine._

"I understand why you say that," Elsie replied in that maddeningly calm tone. "But you cannot force me to leave."

"I'm not trying to force you. I'm trying to persuade you to do the right thing." Alice tugged on her coat. The waitress set down a cup of ice water in front of her.

"And you know what the right thing is for me?" Elsie tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

"Yes," Alice said. "I think everyone would be better off if you were gone." Secretly, she felt rather proud of her ability to be so blunt to Elsie's face.

Elsie raised an eyebrow. "Everyone? You presume to speak for the whole town, including-"

"She was fine before you came, she would be fine after you left." Alice moved the straw in her glass up and down.

"If she was fine before, why did she call me to come help her? She needed me, you know that!" A red spot appeared on Elsie's face.

Alice clenched her teeth. "Forget her, then. Everyone else, yes. Have you forgotten I've lived here my whole life? As has Charlie. We carried on for many years without you, and we can do so again."

"I'm not leaving just because you tell me to," Elsie said, her fingers tightening around her cup. A dangerous gleam glinted in her eye. "I've grown to love this place. I have friends here, a life. Why should I leave?" She opened her mouth to speak again, but closed it, as though cutting off a thought.

" _Why?_ Everyone in the county knows about you and Charlie! People don't just forget about things like that here! He told me it's over between you," Alice snapped. "But if you stay, there's no chance anyone will forget. If you leave, we might be able to move on." In the back of her mind, she quietly admonished herself over her choice of words. She might have to eat them later.

"Yes, it's over," Elsie said quietly, spinning her coffee cup. She rubbed at the shadows under her eyes. "But I do find it ironic that _you_ , of all people, are trying to get me to leave. After you left-"

"Oh, that didn't take long," Alice slapped her hand on the table. _You set yourself up for that one._ "Let me guess – that's how you justify your affair! Because Charlie and I were separated, that gave you the right to waltz in and cheat with him!"

"I would never try to justify it, I know it was wrong." Elsie said, biting her lip. "But I am gobsmacked at the way you have acted. The way you've treated him over the years is appalling."

Her withering tone rubbed Alice like sandpaper. "How dare you," she whispered, clenching her fist. Outside, the thunder rumbled again. The night threatened more rain. "You don't know us, the way we are. We've had separations over the years, I won't deny it-"

"Oh, I'm glad of that," Elsie snapped, rolling her eyes. In a perverse way, Alice felt happy to watch her lose her composure, even a little bit.

"But," Alice emphasized the word, drawing out the t. "Never, in our past, have I _ever_ cheated on him. I never would, and I never could. And he never cheated on me." Her voice cracked. "Until this last time." Her chin wobbled, and she fought to keep her emotion in check. "Charlie is to blame for some of it, but this is mostly on _you_ , Elsie Hughes."

 _I should have been a better wife. Maybe if we had gone another way when we were young, pursued our dreams, I wouldn't feel so claustrophobic at times. My Charlie knows me well, far better than he knows you. When I feel trapped, he lets me go. He knows I will always come back, and I always have. And he's always been here for me. Waiting with open arms._

 _Except this last time, when he preferred to have you in his arms._

Her heart swelled with regret and repressed anger. She drank the icy water, keeping her eyes on the table. She did not speak again until she felt she could do so without crying.

"You say you will not leave just because I say so. Fine. If you need extra persuasion, I am prepared to help you financially."

Elsie's mouth was pressed in a thin line. She was obviously offended by the offer of a bribe. "You don't know me very well. Money has its uses, but I will not be moved by them."

"Just think about it," Alice said. She picked up her purse and stood up. "And I will only say one more thing." Her breath hitched. "I've loved Charlie for my entire life, almost half a century. If I lost him, there would be no one else. Could you say the same?"

She left. She was barely a mile down the road when she had to pull over. She hated to feel out of control, but she knew her happiness depended on what Elsie would do.


	3. The Dilemma

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, especially those asking for more. The next chapter will be from Elsie's perspective.**

He woke suddenly, startled by a crack of thunder close by. He rolled over and fumbled for his watch. A quarter to four. The lamp was still on.

Turning over again, his hands met the cool smoothness of the fitted sheet. Alice was not there.

Getting up, he cautiously pushed the bedroom door open. A light was on in the living room. He tiptoed down the hallway and stopped. She slept on the couch, her dark brown hair wild, the few silver strands shining. He pulled the flannel blanket up to her chin before he knew what he was doing.

 _That's what this – your marriage - has become. Mechanical. Automatic. Feelings not included._

 _It wasn't always that way._

He could see the moments clearly, all the way back to when they were children, when they dreamed of life outside of this place, away from the mountains. Before they went away to university together, then came back together. Before he ran his family's hotel, the historic Downton. Before Alice left him the first time. And the times after.

Before he walled himself off, to protect his heart.

Admittedly, he had tried less and less frequently in recent times to show parts of himself to Alice. The real side of him.

Or maybe he had just gotten tired of trying, of being shut out.

Of his wife not caring about the things he loved.

 _Has she ever really cared?_

To even think such a question a few years ago would have been impossible.

He didn't think anyone could have penetrated past the defenses he'd built. His friends had been unable to get to him when he'd been at his lowest, not even Beryl, his sister in all but name. His cousin John, who never stopped trying.

 _You hadn't felt anything for years._

 _No._

 _You hadn't felt anything like what you feel for_ _ **her.**_ _What you felt for Alice at the best times was a pale shadow to what you feel for Elsie._

Switching the lamp off, he made his way back to the bedroom, in a futile attempt to sleep again. He knew it was hopeless.

He tried to push aside his guilt, of the searing memories at the cabin. C _ling to those moments. They're all you have now._

Paint on her face, and him telling her where to brush imaginary blemishes away, laughing as she marked her face more. Her scolding him, but not meaning it. He knew from very early on, that he could trust her.

Somehow he knew _she_ would never abandon him. She took him as he was, not as someone who she wanted him to be.

Fifty years old, and for the first time, he felt alive.

It began on weekends. Then they snatched nights during the week. Always at the cabin. Their haven. For weeks, months, it was too easy.

Alice had been away. Again.

Even after people began commenting to him how well he looked, how happy, he didn't think of the danger. It was only when Beryl pulled him aside and told him that he had to put an end to it, for Elsie's sake as well as his, that the reality came crashing down on him.

But by then, it was too late. He could not make himself stop. He did not have the strength to leave her.

She didn't leave him, even though he would have understood if she had.

She was a strong woman, stronger than any he had ever known.

The way the color of her hair matched the sunset. This gorgeous woman in his arms, her dark blue eyes half-lidded, her pink lips parted. The sight of her in the flickering light of the kerosene lamp, the handmade quilt falling to expose her bare shoulder, and the freckles that decorated it. The words that fell from his lips as they made love.

 _I love you, Elsie._

He could feel the shaking of the ground beneath him; he had never felt such joy, or such terror, in his life.

He had thought he had known love before. Until he realized Elsie Hughes had become part of his heart. No. He had _given_ her his heart. Just as she had given hers to him.

He slumped against the headboard, his face in his hands. He was in hell. The past month had been the worst agony he had ever faced. It wasn't everyone in town knowing about the affair. It wasn't even Alice knowing about it.

Being apart from her was like losing an arm. Without anesthesia.

 _This is_ _ **your**_ _fault. If you had listened years ago to those who loved and cared for you, you wouldn't be in such pain now. Or have caused Elsie such pain._

It killed him, knowing he was the source of her pain. He would do anything to take it away.

But how to fix it? Was it possible?

His hands were wet. A cacophony of voices shouted in his head. Ruby, Beryl's mother, who saw this happening years ago, even though she did not live to see it. His own father, to whom integrity was the greatest virtue. Old Judge Neale, Alice's father and county legend. Mother's quiet voice. _Son, you only have one life. Don't waste it._

"Elsie, Els," he whispered. A whimper, a moan of grief escaped from him. He had never heard that sound. Not from him.

He knew what he _wanted_ to do. The question was, was it the right thing? His mind and his heart were at war, one screaming no and the other screaming yes.

 _If I go that way, how could I tell Alice? If I stay, could I forget Elsie?_

 _Would she forgive me?_


	4. The Secret

**A/N: I'm going to try and keep the chapters under 1000 words. This is Elsie's perspective. After this, it's going to be all flashbacks, to show how their relationship developed. Please review if you have time. Thanks!**

2:30.

Alice had left hours ago. And still Elsie sat in the diner.

Her coffee was cold. She paid the waitress, and went to leave, pausing before going out the doors.

The rain was pounding down again. The lightning and thunder had passed on, and the night was black. Even the highway was dark. The scant vehicles and their headlights were hidden by the mountains and the ceaseless downpour.

She ran to the truck. Alice's last words snaked through her brain. " _If I lost him, there would be no one else. Could you say the same?"_

 _You have no idea. There has never been anyone like him, not for me. I am forty-two years old, and I know there will never_ _ **be**_ _anyone else._

 _But he was never mine to lose. What little we had is over._

Bile rose in her throat. Disgust, mostly with herself, mixed with the coffee and Beryl's leftovers she ate for dinner. She staggered to the back of the truck and vomited all over the fender. Leaning against the metal, it cooled her flushed face, as did the rain. Her mouth tasted foul.

She gripped the tailgate and tried to regain her balance. Fumbling with her keys, she opened the door and hauled herself in. Her clothes were waterlogged and clung to her body. Her hair, plastered against her face, dripped on the seat.

A faint scent of honeysuckle invaded her senses, bringing with it a rush of memories.

The old cabin. Sawdust on his hands and in his hair. Paint on her cheek, making him laugh. His sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and muscular back. Trekking through the woods to the lake, watching the colors of the sunset. The kerosene lamp on the bedside table. His eyes, soft and dark. The touch of his lips on her fingers. The brass bed as it moved, scraping against the wood floor-

She grabbed a crumpled paper bag a moment before her stomach heaved again. Nothing came. There was nothing left.

 _You've done nothing but ruin lives here_ , a nasty voice whispered in her mind. _Isn't Alice right? Wouldn't it be better if you left town?_

Leaving seemed impossible. She had found a home here, one she never thought she would find. Working with Beryl at her celebrated restaurant, The Red Fox. The staff both there and at the hotel it served, Downton. Friends she'd made in town – Phyllis and Joe, the florists; Anna, who ran an outdoor sporting goods store with her husband John; Bill, who owned the IGA.

But most of all, she couldn't imagine leaving the owner of the hotel.

 _Oh God, I would give anything for him to speak to me again. Every day for the last month has been torture. Him being so close, yet so far away._

A wild howl of grief, a scream of anguish ripped from her throat. An incoherent sound formed on her lips, molding itself into a word. She moaned, her face now wet with her own tears rather than the rain.

"Charles," she gasped, her body shaking. She leaned her head on the steering wheel. _God, no. I can't leave him. I'm not strong enough._

 _I love him. I love him. I need him, and he needs me. No matter what he says, or does._

The first time she knew she loved him, it was like a car plunging off a bridge into a hidden hollow. There was no going back. She could no more stop loving Charles Carson than she could stop the rain.

As messed up as the situation was, she loved him _for_ his blasted honor. He was a man of integrity and honor, and it killed her knowing she'd been the catalyst to break it.

 _We_ _ **never**_ _planned for this. We never planned to be anything more than friends._

Friends who became good friends. Friends who trusted each other. Friends who helped each other out, and made sacrifices for each other. They celebrated successes, and commiserated on bad days.

For such a big man, he could be very tender. Almost sentimental. It was all the more exceptional because he kept himself so closely guarded. Like her. He was a rock, someone she could rely on. She'd had precious little of that in her life. Except for Becky.

Leave town? Leave _him_?

It would hurt less to cut off her arm. Without anesthesia.

She shook her head and slammed her fist into the dashboard, cutting her finger. The punctured skin made her wince. Grabbing a napkin from the holder in the door, she pressed it against the blood.

A laugh bubbled out, bordering on hysterical. _What kind of sick joke is this?_ Of course she'd cut her left ring finger. _That's what you get on that finger, a scab._

She forced herself to take breaths, in, out, in, out. She couldn't stay in the parking lot all night.

The raging guilt nagged like a bad rash. She remembered seeing it in his eyes, knowing it was reflected in her own, on that last car ride back to town.

Elsie leaned back in the driver's seat and wiped her face. She felt drained. _Steady. You don't have to figure everything out now. You have time._

 _No, you don't._

She dropped her right hand from the steering wheel onto her lap, sliding it up to rest between her hips.

"I can't leave. Not now." she whispered. If it was only her to worry about, surely the situation would be clearer, if not easier.

But in a little over seven months, she would not be alone.

 _How am I going to tell him he's the father of my child?_


	5. The Past

**A/N: All right, I lied. There are still flashbacks, and Chelsie will meet soon, but this chapter is really about their respective childhoods. I don't see Charles in any universe liking American football.**

 **TW for childhood hunger and poverty.**

"There he is, there's my Charlie!" Alice dropped her pom-poms and ran to hug her tired boyfriend. He tried to smile, but Beryl thought it looked more like a grimace.

"You did so well! Seven tackles, and you sacked the quarterback twice! Was it exciting when you got interviewed for the newspaper?" She brushed at his sleeve, trying to get the dirt and grass off. He shrugged.

"Thanks. Mr. Weston just asked me a few questions," he said. "It wasn't anything exciting. Hi, Beryl."

"There's the man of the hour," his red-haired friend sighed. "All of the girls at school Monday will be all over you. Except me, of course, I know you too well." She winked at him and he chuckled.

Alice frowned. "They'd better not be." She tucked her arm through his. "How would it look for the Homecoming Queen to go to the dance without her King?"

"Of course I'm going with you, Ally! How could you think otherwise?" Charles asked, leaning over to kiss Alice. She gently pushed him to the side.

"Not on the cheek, you'll smudge my face paint." Instead, he gave her a small peck on the lips. She beamed. "That's better. Oh, I have to run, I have a ride home with Mary Lou. Beryl, are you coming?"

"In a minute," Beryl watched as Alice joined two other cheerleaders, skipping to the car. Charles nudged her.

"You'd better go, I have to get on the bus. You don't want to be stuck without a ride."

"Charlie, why do you play football?" she asked bluntly, crossing her arms. Her eyes bored into his.

He straightened up. "Why not? It gets me outside, plenty of fresh air, physical exercise-"

She snorted. "You've always had plenty of fresh air. You and I played outside from the time we could walk. And you've spent so much time hiking and fishing, up at your grandfather's cabin." She pulled her coat closer around her, her nose red with cold. "You're only on the football team because Alice begged you to. And I don't understand why you didn't tell her you didn't want to do it. You're miserable, that's plain."

"Stop," he growled, his eyebrows coming together. Dropping his voice, he whispered under his breath. "Look, it's not my favorite, but it makes her happy. And fortunately, I'm rather good at it."

"Very fortunate," Beryl said dryly. Ally called for her. "I have to go. But really, Charlie, think about it. You don't have to do every little thing just to please her. You won't make her happy that way."

"I know," he said defensively. He climbed onto the bus and sank onto a seat, feeling his tight muscles relax.

He didn't want to admit it, but Beryl was right. _The next time Ally asks me to do something I don't want to, I'll just calmly tell her no. She'll understand. She doesn't want me to be unhappy._

Like last year he wanted to join the Speech Club. They had just started dating, and she suggested wouldn't it be better if they served together on the planning committee for Prom? He saw her point. And they did have fun.

Beryl was right about football, but she didn't understand how it was between him and Alice.

00000000000000000

The shouting through the thin wall woke her. Again. She lay still, holding her breath, trying not to hear the angry words. Praying that Becky would sleep through it.

Her sister turned over with a soft moan. Elsie immediately reached for her, and the two little girls clung together under the blankets.

"What are they fighting about this time?" Becky whispered, her breath tickling her chin.

"Mam's angry that Da doesn't get paid until Friday," Elsie whispered back. "It's not _his_ fault." Both of them flinched when something banged against the wall. "A shoe," Elsie breathed. Becky's arms tightened around her. "It's just a shoe." _It sounded bigger than that._

She was only thirteen months older than Becky, but took her role as big sister seriously. Da called her an old soul. That made her roll her eyes. She reminded him that she was only nine. _I'm_ _not old!_

"Els, tell me a story," Becky's voice raised slightly as the screaming intensified.

"All right," she bit her lip, thinking hard. "Once there were two princesses, locked in a castle…"

She kept talking until the sounds next door died away, and her younger sister fell asleep again.

The next morning, Da put his finger on his lips when they came into the tiny kitchen.

"Your Mam's still sleeping. You'd best hurry now, you don't want to be late for school."

"We're hungry, Da. Is there anything to eat?" Elsie asked. She hoped Mam had remembered to buy bread for toast. The new shoes and dress Mam had hidden in her closet were nice, but they couldn't eat them. Becky licked her lips.

He shook his head, rubbing the bags under his eyes. "I'm so sorry, my hearts. There's nothing in the cabinet, no milk-"

"We'll be all right," Elsie said bravely, as Becky's chin quivered. They'd gone without before. Her stomach growled.

"That's my good girls." He kissed them on their heads, taking care to tuck Elsie's scarf under her fraying coat. "I love you."

Becky sniffled, wiping her eyes as they trudged up the sidewalk. Tears pricked Elsie's eyes. She turned to her sister, leaning over. "Don't cry, Beebee. Da will bring us something tonight after work. Maybe sandwiches from Mr. Griffin, or doughnuts from the bakery!"

"Mmmm, doughnuts," Becky hummed. She gave Elsie a small smile, and squeezed her hand.

Elsie squared her shoulders, pulling a long hair out of her face. They'd get by.

Somehow they always did.


	6. The Choices

**A/N: Flashbacks continue from the past. Alice's POV here, and Elsie's.**

 **TW for sexual harassment. It won't get any darker than this.**

Crying, Alice sat in her dorm room. Nothing had turned out the way it was supposed to. The way she thought her life would go.

 _They want Charlie, not me. Professor Murray recommended he audition in Chicago._ _ **Him.**_

 _Not me._

Of course he'd been excited when he told her. He wanted them both to go, to try their luck. He'd asked her if that was what she wanted, a chance to make it.

It was, when they started university. Ironically, she had begged _him_ to join her in the theater program, even though she knew he wasn't sure then of what he wanted to study.

A part of her wanted to try Chicago. To see how it went. Maybe Charlie was right, they could make it.

Maybe.

 _I'm not good enough._

She could see her life spread before her, and she didn't like it. She'd audition, and only be offered bit parts at best. She wasn't an idiot. They had been in their first week when she realized playing the lead roles back home meant nothing. She had worked as hard as she could, but she never felt satisfied by the roles she was given.

She had never played second fiddle to anyone before. She was Judge Neale's daughter, and her mother, Eugenie Patricia, was once the second runner-up in the state's beauty pageant.

Charlie would audition, and she knew he'd become famous. She'd be nothing more than the woman on his arm. _If_ he stayed with her.

Alice saw the admiring looks he got. She smiled, shaking her head. _No one other than Charlie Carson could miss the attention he gets from other women._ His obliviousness was her safety.

 _Until someone catches his eye,_ a voice whispered in her head. _Then you'll lose him._

She was proud of the fact that he'd stayed with her all through university. Back home, she didn't doubt herself. But away, other women intimidated her. The women who weren't afraid of the world outside of their comfort zones.

She could not compete with them. _But why should I_ _ **have**_ _to?_

 _I won't lose him. Not now._

Two weeks before graduation, she told him she was pregnant. He was ecstatic, she less so, but he thought her downcast face a result of timing, nothing more. He proposed a few days later with a smaller ring than she would have liked, but she gladly accepted him.

They came home and married in a quick ceremony. She was radiant, the center of attention, everyone's golden girl. They settled in her grandparents' old house on the edge of town.

He went back to work at his family's business, at Downton. He was happy. He had a family to look after, a life to look forward to.

She realized he would be content anywhere. Whereas by the end of the year, she felt trapped.

000000000000

 _Da, I miss you._

Elsie swiped the back of her hand across her face. _Tears won't bring him back, girl._

It had been two years since he died suddenly, and life had only gotten harder.

Mam's latest boyfriend Barry – or was it Arnold? - was the worst one yet. He'd made a pass at Becky the week before, after trying with her.

And she was only fourteen. Mam wouldn't hear anything against him. _A real mother would take her children's side._

 _When has she been any kind of mother? Always thinking of herself..._

She clenched her teeth and opened the refrigerator door, just for something to do. Moments later, whatshisname staggered into the kitchen. She backed against the counter.

"Maggie?" he shouted back into the bedroom. "Whisky?" He grabbed the bottle and two glasses, setting them down when he caught sight of Elsie.

"Hello, beautiful," he said in a low voice. He reached over and pulled her hair. "Your sister looks like your ma. Pretty. But _you_ -" he leaned forward, and she tried to lean away from him as much as possible- "- _you_ are stunning." He reached down and fumbled with her skirt. She grabbed his wrist, trying to push him away.

" _Stop_ ," she hissed. "Don't touch me!"

"Don't be shy, honey," he slurred, his yellow teeth showing, "I _love_ redheads. Your hair looks like fire." His breath stank.

"FRED!" Mam bellowed. "BRING ME MY BLOODY DRINK!"

"Coming!" he yelled. He leered at Elsie for another moment, then disappeared back into the bedroom. The door clicked shut.

Elsie was still shaking when the front door opened and Becky came in. She jumped at the sound.

"You're late," she snarled. "You should have been here at nine." Becky glanced at the clock.

"It's 9:03, I was coming up the stairs at nine," she said. "You don't need to yell at me!"

"Yes, I do," Elsie snapped. "It's not like our mother's going to, not while _Fred_ is here-"

"Wait," Becky said. She stepped forward and put her hands on Elsie's shoulders. "Did he do something to you? Hurt you?" She pulled her sister's chin up, looking her in the face.

"No," Elsie mumbled, feeling the tears come. "H-he tried, but Mam yelled for him, so he went back." Becky let out a relieved sigh.

"Els, you should have come with the group, we only went to the drugstore!" She hugged her sister, who held on tightly. "You should not have been here alone! You _always_ take care of me. Always," Becky whispered into Elsie's ear. "Let _me_ look after you once in a while, all right?"

"All right," she whispered. "I'm glad I have you." She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. "The second I turn eighteen, we're out of here. We'll find a cheap place. It won't be much, but at least it will just be us."

"What about Mam?" Becky said in a low voice. Elsie looked back at the closed bedroom door, hearing the now-familiar sounds. Her stomach turned over.

"She made her choice a long time ago," she said quietly. "Maybe she will change, but – I don't think so. We take care of ourselves, anyway. We'll survive."

 _Just a few more years. Then we can live free._


	7. The Best Man

**A/N: UPDATE - this is the second chapter updated today. Start with Chapter 6 if you haven't read it yet.**

 **Another flashback here, with Charles and Elsie's first meeting.**

Eight years with Alice. Eight years with the gold ring on his left ring finger.

He was _thirty_.

Where had the time gone?

Sometimes he hardly recognized the image in the mirror when he shaved.

"Charles?"

He started at the sound of his mother's voice. "Mmmm? Sorry, I was distracted."

"That's all right. You're driving. I was just asking if you had talked to Alice this week. Does she know Adam's getting married on Saturday?"

"Yes, I talked to her last night. She knows about Adam. She's going to try to make it."

He swallowed, willing both of his parents not to ask him any more questions. It was too painful. And humiliating.

He didn't know any other men whose wives left them for months on end.

He knew she had been unhappy. He had tried, along with her parents, to help her. Privately, he was convinced it was partially due to their not having children. Not that Alice had said this to him directly. But he had seen her deep grief only months after their wedding, when she told him she had lost the baby. And even more so four years ago. He wasn't sure if she had ever recovered fully from that loss.

She had left four months previously to go to Chicago, of all places. She stayed with university friends, Sandra, and her husband Jerry. She worked at a theater doing all kinds of odd jobs, and seemed to be happier each time she talked to him on the phone. He thought it was both the change in location as well as catching up with old friends. He missed her desperately, and talked with his father about leaving the hotel. He had started the process of setting up interviews with potential replacements before traveling with his parents to Adam's wedding.

Adam, Beryl's younger brother, was getting married. He had asked Charles to be his best man, which surprised and flattered him.

"Becky seems to be a nice girl," Malcolm Carson commented from the backseat. Charles looked in the rearview mirror at his father.

"I only met her once, but yes, she's very nice. Adam's over the moon," he felt a smile grow across his face, thinking about the younger man's obvious happiness. It felt strange that smiling was something he did rarely.

"It's a shame her father passed away when she was so young," Darlene shook her head. "Ruby told me that Becky's mother…is not part of her life. She said she's taken Becky under her wing, like a third daughter."

"Does she have any family?" Malcolm leaned forward, tapping the passenger seat.

"Yes," Charles and Darlene answered simultaneously. They glanced at each other and laughed.

"She has one sister, who's about a year older. Elsie. I haven't met her yet," Charles changed lanes. "But she's the maid of honor, so I expect to spend a decent amount of time in her company this weekend. If she's anything like Becky, it should be pleasant enough."

"If Alice gets here before the wedding, I'm sure Adam won't object if you neglect the wedding duties a little," Darlene said quietly. Charles tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"We'll see."

He wanted to believe his wife would attend.

00000000000000

They had checked into their hotel in Lexington (Malcolm surreptitiously making notes) and gone back down to the lobby to meet with Beryl's family for dinner. He had gone to check where Kate, Beryl's older sister was, when a breathtaking young woman with auburn hair walked around the corner and knocked into him.

"Oh! I am _so sorry_ ," she said, as he steadied her. "I didn't look where I was going."

"That's all right," he reassured her. His pulse quickened as she stood up straight. Her dark blue dress perfectly matched her eyes. She smiled, holding out her hand. His stomach flipped. He hadn't seen a woman this beautiful for a long time. _Ever_.

"I'm Elsie Hughes," she said, her Scottish lilt making his stomach flip again. He gaped for a moment, then shook her hand.

"Charles Carson. The best man," he explained, his mouth suddenly dry. She raised her eyebrows.

"We'll see about that," she teased lightly. "I'll have plenty of opportunity in the next two days to see if you live up to the name."

"Touche," he smiled. The softened look on his face made her heart skip a beat.

"Elsie?" Becky and Adam stepped off of the elevator into the corridor. Adam's eyes lit up, and he grabbed Charles's hand, slapping him on the back.

"You're here! It's great to see you! Did you and your parents get checked in all right?"

"Yes. You know my father, he had to comb over the competition," Charles joked. It felt good to see Adam, to be there. _It should not feel so strange to feel happy._

Becky hugged Elsie, bouncing up and down. "Everyone's here now, I feel like the wedding is _really_ going to happen," she said happily. She gestured to Charles. "So you've met Charles."

"Yes, just now," Elsie swallowed, her heart feeling out of rhythm. "Adam never said how tall he is." _Or how deep his voice is._

 _I'm not surprised he's married. His wife is very lucky._

"Why would I mention his height?" Adam ran a hand through his thick strawberry blond hair, glancing up at Charles. He was at least four inches shorter. "I suffer in comparison. I can't have my future sister thinking less of me!"

"I could never do that," Elsie laughed. "As long as Becky doesn't mind, I don't either." She nudged him affectionately.

They went back into the lobby, where everyone was gathered, including the missing Kate. Becky introduced Elsie to everyone, Adam prompting her when necessary.

"This is Mrs. Carson, Darlene, Charlie's mother," he said. Elsie shook her hand firmly.

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Carson," she said, noticing that the older woman's eyes were exactly like her son's.

"The same to you," Darlene replied, smiling. "I hope the wedding preparations haven't been too overwhelming."

"No," Elsie said, putting her arm around Becky's waist. "Fortunately, the bride is not too demanding." She winked at her little sister.

"If you need any help, please ask me. I'd be glad to assist you in any way," Darlene said, her eyes wide. "Ruby and I have been friends since we were girls, and Adam is like another son to me."

"Thank you," Becky said sincerely. "We really appreciate it. I think it's wonderful, how kind everyone has been." She shared a small glance with Elsie, who gave her a squeeze.

"I'll be sure to find you tomorrow. I'm sure we'll need another pair of hands," she said. "I don't want Becky to worry about anything."

"Nor should she," Darlene agreed.

Elsie noticed Charles looking their direction and smiled at him. He started, but managed to smile at her before turning away. She bit her lip in amusement.

 _This weekend is going to be fun._


	8. The News

**A/N: Back to the main timeline. Someone has news to share…**

A soft knock sounded on the door.

Muttering for them to come in, Charles looked up and saw Alice in the doorway of the office. He frowned slightly, knowing that she had rarely come to Downton throughout their marriage, but even less since she knew about the affair. She gave him a small smile.

"I won't be long. I'm going to Hazard to have lunch with Denise, then we're going shopping. I should be home around eight tonight," she paused. "Is there anything I can get for you while I'm out? Some new trousers, or shirts? You really should consider upgrading-"

"No, thank you," he shut her down. She flared her nostrils.

"I only want you to look your best. See you tonight," she left, shutting the door behind her. He sat staring at it.

" _Look my_ _ **best**_ _"? That's all she cares about. Appearance._

 _She acts as though nothing has changed. That I never had an affair. That she never met Elsie a couple of weeks ago, and tried to bribe her to leave town._

 _She has not changed._

 _ **I**_ _am not the same._

She had told him about meeting Elsie at the diner. For the first time in weeks, he had felt a visceral reaction. Anger towards Alice, that she had goaded Elsie into meeting her. Guilt for Elsie's sake that she had had to endure it. Shame and anger directed at himself, for not being more courageous earlier in his life, and ending the marriage years before.

What had finally swayed him was Alice's behavior. She had refused to go to any kind of counseling, saying it would be too embarrassing to talk about their marriage in front of a stranger. She carried on as normal, visiting friends and serving on the local Arts Board.

If she wouldn't acknowledge the clear problems they had, what was the point in staying married to her?

He had hired an attorney, who advised him to move out. Legally, Charles did not have to do so, but he was not sure how Alice would react to his news, so he thought it the sensible thing to do. Some of his things were already at the cabin.

He would have to tell Alice soon.

And Elsie. If she would see him.

They had successfully avoided each other for six weeks, no small feat, considering they worked in virtually the same building. He had had no more than short glimpses of her.

Although he knew the next few weeks and months would be difficult, it was worth it. Elsie was worth it.

For the first time in a very long time, he looked forward to the future.

0000000000000000

The river was high, the spring rains swelling the creeks that fed it. He relished the sun on his neck. He checked his watch. Beryl would be coming along soon. She had said she wanted to meet him somewhere private. To talk.

He wondered what she wanted to talk about.

It came as a shock, therefore, when he heard the distinctive rumble of Elsie's truck. He swallowed, nervously running a hand down on his hair, as she parked a few spots away.

 _You were going to tell her anyway. I suppose now is the time._

Her hair glinted in the sun when she got out, and his mind immediately transported back to heated memories at the cabin. His soft smile vanished at her expression. She wasn't smiling, or even looking at him directly. His heart hammered in his chest.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said in a low voice. She stopped about six feet away, a faint blush coloring her pale face.

"I'm sorry to deceive you. It was my idea for Beryl to ask you to meet. I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me again."

The lilt of her voice made him feel lightheaded. He took a step forward.

"Of _course_ I wanted to see you again," he said, rubbing his fingers together. "I-I've missed you."

"You too," she whispered, looking up at him through her eyelashes. When she bit her lip, he couldn't stop himself, gathering her into his arms. She was stiff for a moment, then relaxed, wrapping her arms around him.

"God, I missed you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She let out a sob, crying softly into his shirt. Rubbing her back, he enjoyed the feeling of her body tucked just so under his chin. Gradually, she calmed. He gestured at a wooden bench along the bank. "Would you like to sit down?"

Nodding, she sat down, still holding his hand. He squeezed hers, wondering how it was possible that the hell of the last six weeks could fade away so completely with her touch. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, smiling at the hitch in her breath. He took a deep breath. "Because I wanted to tell you something. I'm filing for divorce."

Her mouth dropped open, and she put a hand to her mouth. Several emotions flashed across her face.

"Oh God," she whispered, her eyes wide. "Truly?"

"Yes," he said. "I should have done it years ago."

"I'm sorry to be the cause of it," she choked, withdrawing her hand and fishing for a tissue from her purse. He watched her with a concerned expression. "You have always taken your vows seriously-"

"Elsie, stop," he commanded, putting his hands on either side of her face. "You were not the cause of my marriage ending. It was there long before you." He rubbed away her tears, but they kept falling.

"I am sorry, I can't seem to stop crying," she whispered. He put an arm around her.

"I love you," he said in her ear. "And you would make me the happiest man on earth if you would become my wife." He felt as though his entire life had been building to this moment.

To his surprise, she leaned away from him. "Are you offended?" he asked, worried. "I know I should have waited to ask you until after the divorce is final-"

"No," she said, getting up. "I can assure you the last thing on this earth that I am at this moment is offended. But," she bit her lip, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, "you don't want to be stuck with me."

"But that's the point," he said, taking her hand and pulling on it so that she sat down again, "I do want to be stuck with you."

She looked away, down the brown flood that was the river. She spoke so quietly he almost couldn't hear her.

"But it won't be just me you're stuck with," she looked him in the eye, her blue eyes glistening. "Charles, I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby."

00000000000

He stood without comprehending, his hands on his hips. Everything around him seemed to fade away like the morning fog.

 _Impossible._

 _No, not impossible. After all those tests years ago, the doctors said nothing was wrong with me physically._

 _I never thought this could happen. Not now. Not like this._

 _I never thought I would have the chance._

A lifetime ago, almost thirty years ago, Alice had said almost the exact same words to him.

 _Then, I proposed after she told me._

 _This time, Elsie's news came after my proposal._

 _What if this ends the same way? She's older, there could be complications…_

A thousand thoughts and words bombarded him.

 _A baby. At my age._

 _I'm fifty. A ten-year-old when I'm sixty? What kind of father would I be?_

 _A baby. A child. Elsie's child._

 _ **Our**_ _child._

He bent over, leaning on the fence. Her hand slid onto his back.

"Are you all right, Charles?"

He tried to answer her, but only a gasp came out. He gulped through another sob, feeling the tears drip off of his chin. He nodded and tried to regain his composure. Feeling his knees weaken, he knelt on the ground. She embraced him, and he held her hips, whispering into her ribcage, pressing his lips against the fabric of her windbreaker.

He looked up, suddenly looking worried. "Will you?" She ran a hand through his hair, trying in vain to smooth that errant curl.

"Will I what? Oh," she blushed, remembering his unanswered question that was not a question at all. She dipped her head and kissed him on the mouth, humming. "Yes," she breathed. "Of course I'll marry you, you booby," she teased, breaking into a smile when he laughed.

They lingered for a few minutes more. He felt as though he could kiss her forever, and it would not be enough. With a promise to talk soon about their plans, they parted.

He was pulling into the long driveway of the house before the bubble burst.

 _What is Alice going to say when she finds out?_


	9. The Sister

The next Saturday, the alarm went off at six o'clock. Forty-five minutes later than normal, but Elsie still cursed when it jolted her from sleep.

Then she remembered why she had woken at that time.

 _Best get up now, or else you'll never have the nerve._

All through her shower (she was amazed that she could _see_ the bump when unclothed, it seemed bigger every day), then in the car drinking watered-down tea, she talked to herself, trying to find the right words that she would say to Becky and Adam.

Driving out of town towards the main highway, she glanced at the road that broke away, heading in the direction of the cabin. She allowed herself a few minutes of happy reflection, thinking of Charles. Of him on his knees, embracing her by the river, with tears on his face.

 _My wonderful man. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes._

 _He's overjoyed about the baby. But cautious._

 _I can't blame him for that._

For fear of gossip, she could not visit any of the doctors in town. She had heard from a friend about the Scottish-born Dr. Clarkson in Pikeville, and had gone to two appointments there; the first, to confirm the pregnancy, and the second for a follow-up. His familiar accent and words reassured her.

"You're healthy and everything looks normal," he had said at her last visit. "We have to be a little more careful because of your age, but right now there is nothing to fear."

She was afraid of what Becky would say. Her sister and brother-in-law had no idea of the affair. Elsie was not sure what to pray for. She thought she would settle for them simply listening to her. Still, her stomach clenched with anxiety.

If only she could figure out what to say.

0000000000000

Adam seemed to not know where to look. He kept glancing at her across the table, then back down, then up again. His fingers tapped without stopping. Becky leaned forward on her elbows, her eyes closed, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Um," Adam began. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Uh, when did you say this started? Eighteen months ago?"

Elsie was beyond grateful her brother-in-law was staying calm. From her sister's body language, she wasn't sure how much longer it would be before Becky exploded.

"A year and a half, yes," she whispered. "We-we didn't plan it-"

"I sure as hell hope not," Becky snapped, raising her head, her dark blue eyes blazing. Adam touched her arm.

"We know neither you nor Charles planned to have an affair," he said, ignoring Becky's snort. "But the fact of the matter is, you did." He sat back in his chair, pulling on the hair around his bald patch. "And it's disappointing to us, I won't deny it. But he's filed for divorce? You're sure?"

"Yes," Elsie said, her voice trembling. "I've spoken with his attorney by phone, Mr. Napier. The petition was filed on Thursday."

Becky covered her face with her hands before dropping them onto the table. "What does Beryl say about this? I can't believe that she wouldn't have known about your affair, not if it went on that long! And if she _did_ know about it, I can't _believe_ she wouldn't tell us!"

"She's known about our relationship for several months," Elsie bit her lip. "But not about the baby. She didn't approve of us being together, she was quite vocal about it to both Charles and I." She sipped water, feeling her chapped lips. "She's been telling him for years to get a divorce. But she didn't tell the two of you because I wanted to tell you myself. I just couldn't find the courage to do so. I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes down, a lump in her throat.

Adam looked at his watch and got up. "I have to go pick the girls up from practice. I'll drop by Nick's house on the way and pick up Jason, and take the kids out for breakfast." His eyes flickered towards Elsie. "Brandon won't get off work until this afternoon, so you should have plenty of time to talk." He kissed Becky on the cheek and left. The two women sat quietly until the garage door had closed.

Her sister raised her coffee cup to her lips, then slammed it onto the table, spilling the hot liquid. "What the hell were you _thinking_ , Els?" She stood up, pacing, running her fingers through her dark brown hair. "You've broken every decent rule! What am I supposed to think – my sister's the other woman! A real life Jolene! Good God," she stormed, "I've never had a reason to be ashamed of you until now. _Damnit_ , Elsie!" Her voice broke, and she wiped her eyes. "You haven't thought of your family, your nephews and nieces. What are we supposed to tell them? Brandon and Jason are old enough to know the truth – but what about Emily and Liza? They're too young right now. Have you thought about them? What about Adam? He's torn, he's been friends with Charles forever, but he's known Alice just as long-" she continued, her voice rising.

Elsie wanted to sink through the floor, her face aflame. _Is it worth it? To bear the shame? She isn't saying anything that isn't true._

"It's not as though we didn't see how miserable Charles was for years," Becky cried. "Adam thought it was a miracle that he didn't divorce Alice years ago, or have an affair. But he knew better than to be so stupid, or that's what we thought. And you _certainly_ knew better." She broke down, letting out a sob. "You're no better than Mam." She collapsed into a kitchen chair and put her head down on the table, weeping.

If she had punched her multiple times, she could not have said anything that would have made Elsie feel worse. The impact made her gasp, and her tears brewing beneath the surface broke through and flowed down her face.

 _If I'm no better than our mother, I might as well be dead._

She put her hands over her mouth to muffle her sobs, a physical pain in her chest.

"It's the principle of the thing," Becky said, her voice muffled through her arms. "It doesn't matter that Alice left him more than once, or that he was unhappy. He should have _done_ something about it sooner." She raised her head, her face blotchy. "But you damn well knew better! You looked after me when we were kids, and pretty much raised me after Da died." Her lower lip quivered. "Why, Els? Why did you do it? I know Charles is half to blame, but I'm asking you. It wouldn't make it right, but at least I'd understand why this happened." She sounded like a little girl. She sniffed and looked at her sister directly.

"Oh God," she whispered, moving around the table to sit next to her. "I was angry, I still am, but-I-I didn't mean to say that, not about you and Mam. I'm sorry," she hesitantly reached out and touched Elsie's shoulder.

A sob escaped Elsie's mouth as she put a hand on Becky's. "I'm sorry, Beebee. For not telling you sooner. For everything," she murmured. They cried together for several minutes, their heads leaning on each other's shoulders, their brown and red hair mixed together.

Eventually, they pulled apart and Becky got up to get a box of tissues and to mop up the spilled coffee.

"Will you tell me? How it started?" she asked quietly. "I remember when you and Charles met, at our wedding. But you didn't see him on a regular basis, not until Mama Patmore died three years ago and Beryl asked you to move down and help her."

Elsie nodded, thinking. "That's right. But something happened on your wedding day – nothing improper between Charles and I," she said quickly. "But I remembered it for years. I told you that Mam was at the hotel that morning."

Becky raised her eyebrows. "Yes, and she was totally sloshed. I'm glad you got her kicked out."

"Well, Charles saw it. He saw everything," Elsie nodded as Becky's mouth dropped open. "You remember how she could be. It was bad."

Shaking her head with incredulity, Becky leaned forward as Elsie began.


	10. The Wedding

**A/N: Flashback to Becky's wedding. And my self-imposed word count is completely obliterated this chapter. Lots of POVs made it necessary.**

The chairs had been arranged in neat rows by the groomsmen in the sunroom of the hotel. Darlene and Ruby had set themselves the task to arrange the flowers. Elsie breathed a sigh of relief.

It seemed like everything was coming together. She had been pleasantly surprised when Joe Burns had arrived earlier that morning, offering to help the groomsmen. They had only been dating for a few months. He was a nice man, solid. She wasn't sure if they would work out in the long term, but he treated her well.

That meant a lot.

She was almost to the elevators when she saw one of the hotel managers headed her way.

"Elsie Hughes? Your sister's getting married this afternoon in the sunroom?"

"That's right. Rebekah Hughes and Adam Patmore," Elsie said. "Is there something you need?"

"Well," the man wrung his hands, clearly upset. "There's a woman in the lounge. She says she's your mother. She's had a few drinks-"

Her heart sank right into her toes. _I should have known she'd find out somehow._ She turned, half-walking and half-running across the lobby, the manager right behind her.

"We have a policy of turning out those patrons who, ah-"

"I understand," Elsie cut him off. She prayed silently that her mother would come away quietly. For once.

And that Becky wouldn't find out. _Not today. I don't want_ _ **anything**_ _to ruin today._ She took a deep breath before entering the mostly-empty lounge. It was almost noon.

Maggie Hughes was singing off-key, perched precariously on a bar stool.

"Mam. What are you doing here?" Elsie kept her voice calm. Maggie turned and glared at her.

"What I am I _doing_ here?" she repeated, her voice slurred in a mocking tone. Elsie kept eye contact, her hands on her hips. "My daughter's getting married today." She threw back another shot. "My baby. Why _shouldn't_ I be here?"

"You aren't her mother. You may have given birth to her, but you've _never_ been there for her. This is about you being the center of attention," Elsie said evenly, "If you really cared for her, you would have been there for her before today."

"You little imp," Maggie's face was red. "How _dare_ you lecture me! I'm going to Becky's wedding, and you can't stop me-"

"Is there a problem?" Both women turned around to see Charles Carson enter the lounge, looking serious.

 _He doesn't need to be bothered with her. No one does._ Elsie spoke up quickly."No, I can handle this-"

"Who's your friend?" Maggie eyed the best man with appreciation, who was already attired in his rented tuxedo. "Why don't you…introduce me?" She slipped off the stool, propping herself against the bar. The implication was obvious.

 _Unbelievable._ Elsie closed her eyes in horror before collecting herself. "Mother, this is Charles Carson. He's the best man at the wedding," she tried to tell him without words to stay calm, not to rattle the older woman. Remarkably, he seemed to understand her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hughes," he said, as if he was speaking to the minister's wife.

"Why don't you join me for a drink?" Maggie slapped her hand on the bar. "Celebrate the occasion-"

" _No_ , Mam," Elsie huffed, motioning to the bartender, who nodded. "You've had more than enough!" As she spoke, the manager re-entered the lounge with a security guard.

Maggie laughed and gestured at the bartender to get her another drink. But when he politely refused, she went into a tirade. He and the guard had to wrestle her to the floor while the hotel manager called the police. Charles pulled Elsie back as first the guard, then the police, did their jobs. He said nothing, but his presence kept her calm. Maggie was arrested and taken away, shouting at her daughter all the while.

After she was gone, Elsie sank onto a stool at the bar, her face in her hands. She felt a gentle tap on her arm.

"I came down initially to get something for Adam, to calm his nerves. But I think you need it more." She looked up at Charles, feeling utterly humiliated. _What must he think of us, to have a mother like that? And his mother is just the opposite._ His expression betrayed nothing.

"No thank you," she protested. "I don't drink, I never have."

"Have some port," he said in a voice that brooked no opposition. "Just a little, to steady you. You won't want to go upstairs now. Becky will know something happened."

Shaking her head, she pushed away the glass.

"It's not your fault," he said quietly. "No one would think less of you, or of Becky, because of your mother's behavior." He paused, his eyes soft. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Tears pricked her eyes. She wrapped a shaking hand around the glass and sipped the dark red wine.

"I don't know how to thank you," she whispered. "I am glad you were here."

"I'm glad I could help. It's part of my job," he said lightly, patting her hand. When his fingers grazed her skin, she almost flinched.

She had never felt that when Joe touched her.

00000000000

The wedding was beautiful. Becky was radiant, and Adam couldn't stop smiling. Elsie moved among their guests, greeting and chatting with everyone. Charles was deep in conversation with Adam's cousin when Beryl reminded him to dance with Elsie at least once.

It was awkward. He held her hand in a looser grip than normal, hoping what he had felt that morning when he touched her hand had been a fluke. He kept his other hand on her waist still, not daring to move it at all.

Not to mention the song seemed inappropriate for their dance together.* He tried to forget it, reminding himself that the floor was crowded and included the bride and groom.

He was impressed with the bride's sister, how she had put the morning incident behind her, and had focused solely on Becky. He tried not to notice how perfectly her dress fit her. He did comment favorably on her dancing, feeling that was a safe subject. She thanked him, replying that her father had taught her and Becky how to dance. He relaxed as they talked, enjoying the next few minutes rather more than even he thought proper.

At least until Joe cut in.

He returned to his table and was feeling rather glum when a brown-haired woman, beautifully dressed, entered the room and strode across the floor towards him.

His breath caught in his throat.

Alice.

 _Thank God. My wife has come back to me!_

He pushed back the thought that he had doubted that she would return, preferring to let his elation take over.

He jumped up from his seat and kissed her.

0000000000000

She was nervous about how he would receive her. _I didn't mean to be away this long._

 _But I needed it, for my own sake._

Leaving Chicago very early that morning, she had been caught in traffic and thus reached Lexington after the wedding. It made her feel guilty, but she shook it off. Arriving at the reception would bring a certain panache.

It seemed to work spectacularly.

He kissed her until her knees felt weak. _I forgot how good of a kisser he could be._

"Well," she said, pulling back in his arms, "It's wonderful to see you too, Charlie." He laughed and kissed her again, lightly. He was totally unaware that they had attraction some attention.

She was not.

He held her hand as she greeted his parents. Both were warm, but she detected a hint of frost, especially in Darlene's voice.

 _They don't understand. Not like Charlie._

 _Well, they don't have to._

She pulled her husband towards Adam, ignoring the groom's conversation with his brother-in-law.

"Little Ad!" she cried, kissing him on the cheek. "Oh, I can't believe you're married! I'm so sorry I missed the ceremony-"

"That's all right, I'm glad you're here," Adam said. "This is my wife Rebekah, or Becky as everyone calls her. Becky, this is Charlie's wife, Alice, or Ally. She's been like another sister to me growing up."

Alice turned to look at the bride, a young woman with dark blue eyes and wavy brown hair.

 _She's prettier than me._

"It's nice to meet you, congratulations," she trilled, feeling her voice rise higher as it always did when she was nervous. "Your dress is beautiful."

"Thank you. It's nice to meet you," Becky said smiling, her arm through Adam's. She turned slightly, gesturing to someone. "I should introduce you to the maid of honor. My sister, Elsie." She spoke with a slight lilt, a musical sound.

A woman surrounded by a tight knot of people made her way over to them. Alice felt as though she was walking down a flight of stairs, and had missed one.

Red hair crowned a face with high cheekbones and dark blue eyes identical to the bride's. Her lavender dress showed off her curves.

Alice felt diminished just standing next to her.

"Els," Becky said, "This is Alice Carson, Charlie's wife. Alice, this is my sister, Elsie Hughes."

"I've heard a lot about you," Elsie said, extending her hand. Her accent was more pronounced than Becky's, the rolling r distinct.

"You're Becky's maid of honor? How fitting, supporting your sister," she squeaked, feeling her face redden. She cleared her throat. "I hope you can excuse Charlie when you dance with him, he's got two left feet-"

"We already danced. He's a fine dancer," Elsie said, a small smile on her face as she glanced at Charles. "I hope I didn't leave any bruises on your toes."

"Hardly," he replied. "Your feet hardly touched the floor." He returned Elsie's smile.

Alice felt her pulse quicken as she glanced between them. She slipped one arm around his waist, and put her other hand on his chest. He looked down at her in surprise. She hardly ever touched him in public.

Not like that, anyway.

" _We_ should dance, we haven't yet," she said, willing him to move away. _I must get him to myself._

 _We need to be alone. Just us._

"Oh yes," he said, fumbling for her hand before nodding at the others. "Excuse us."

They danced for a while before leaving the reception early.

For years afterward, Alice did her best to make plans for her and Charlie whenever Adam and Becky visited his family.

She tried not to remember, but was never able to completely forget, Elsie Hughes.

 ***I know this fic is based off of Jolene, but the song in my head Charles and Elsie dance to at Becky's wedding is "Follow You, Follow Me", by Genesis.**

 **I'd love a review if you have time.**


	11. The China Plates

**A/N: Back to the main timeline. It's Charles's turn to break the news to someone. And no, it doesn't go well.**

Every hour, he woke up. Two o'clock. Three.

Charles did sleep for a while, but when he woke again at a quarter to five, he gave up and got up from the couch. He moved quietly around the kitchen, praying that Alice would sleep late.

 _You can't avoid her forever. Elsie's gone to Lexington to tell Becky and Adam. If she can face them, you can face Alice._

 _You have no choice. The papers are filed._

If only he had had the courage to divorce her fifteen years ago. Or even five.

It would not have been nearly as daunting as now.

 _You'll pay for it today._

He was under no illusions; he was not so obtuse as to think Alice would take it any other way than badly. _Just be direct with her – you're getting divorced, and Elsie's carrying your child. The fewer words, the better._

It wasn't out of a sense of torturing his soon-to-be ex-wife of nearly thirty years to tell her about the baby. He just knew how news worked in town; once it was out, it would spread like wildfire. And he did not want Alice to find out from someone else.

 _I don't want her thinking I was trying to hide the truth from her._

He shook his head as the coffee percolated. If he had told the truth years ago, they wouldn't be in this situation.

000000000000

The clock ticked on and on.

She didn't move. Her eyesight was frozen on the wall behind him.

"Alice?" he said quietly, hesitating. He reached for her – to make sure she was breathing?

She did move then. "Don't touch me," she whispered, leaning away. She crossed her arms over her body, hugging herself. They sat for another minute. He heard the distant sound of a coal truck heading up the mountain, its engine churning with the weight of its load.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, not knowing what else to say. "For not working harder at the beginning of our marriage. I take responsibility for it. I should have told you I was unhappy."

 _You would not have listened. I know. I've been all but screaming it for years. It was obvious to everyone except you._

He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. It-well, I never intended for this to happen. Neither Elsie nor I did." She flinched when he said her name. "But you and I, we're finished," he said quietly. "You've made it clear you want things to go on the way they have been, but-" he swallowed, looking directly at her, though she wasn't looking back-"-I can't live like this anymore. You'll get the house, of course, it was your grandfather's. And I'm willing to pay alimony. We'll leave the details to the lawyers. For later." He sighed, leaning back on the couch. "I'm moving out today. You won't have to see me."

"Where will you stay?" she croaked. She still sounded like she was in shock.

He blew air out through his mouth. "The cabin."

"The _ca_ bin," she mocked, in a bitter voice. Her mouth twisted into a cold smile. "Of course…your love nest." Her eyes flickered up to his. He looked away from her, out the window, and her heart cracked. "That's where you took _her_ , isn't it? You and your red-haired mistress in that broken down shack, probably making love on an old mattress on the floor-what kind of woman goes for that? A cheap one!" she shouted. Her face was red. She stood up, clenching her fists. "A damned slut-no, a mattress was probably too good for her, I'm sure you had her against the wall-"

"STOP," he thundered, getting to his feet as well. He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, trying to stay calm. "You know nothing, _nothing_ , about Elsie, about us! You're angry, and I don't blame you for that, but there's nothing you can do to change it now-"

Alice didn't hear him, becoming more enraged by the second. "- _Us!?_ There is no _us_ , unless you're talking about me and you! She doesn't be _long_ to you! Nor you to her!"

"We will," he said with finality, making his mind up all at once to tell her everything. "When the divorce is finalized, we're getting married."

He had never seen someone turn pale with rage until that moment. _"For the female of the species is more deadly than the male." Kipling_ _ **was**_ _right._

"So," she whispered, her voice half-strangled, "Everything I've had, she's stolen! And you! You're going to _marry_ her!?" Her voice rose to a shriek. "God DAMN you! _Damn_ you! You can go to hell for all I care!" She yanked open the hutch and pulled out a china salad plate. Hurling it at him, she missed by half an inch, as he ducked just in time. It shattered against the opposite wall. She picked up another and pitched it at him like a Frisbee. It caught his shoulder but ricocheted off the top of the couch.

There was no reasoning with her.

He ran for the door, grabbing his keys. She chased him onto the porch. He threw himself into his truck and drove away without looking back.

 _At least it's over._

00000000000000

Alice stood, heaving with exertion, watching the truck disappear down the street. She leaned against the tall post by the steps.

 _Everything._

 _I've lost_ _ **everything**_ _._

 _To Elsie Hughes._

 _I shouldn't have worried what_ _ **she**_ _was going to do. I assumed Charlie would stay with me._

 _I was wrong._

She didn't know who she hated more in that instant; Charlie, for leaving her; Elsie, for stealing him; or herself, for missing what seemed like obvious warning signs over the years.

 _I_ _ **knew**_ _she was trouble the second I met her. I should have let Charlie hire someone to take his place at Downton after Adam's wedding, instead of convincing him otherwise. We should have moved away then. We never would have seen her again._

 _You never would have moved away_ , whispered a voice in her mind. A small part of her knew it was true.

She went back into the house and choked back a wild laugh at the sight of the shattered china. Knowing Charlie, he would probably let her keep it. Which meant it was hers.

She swept up the mess. After she finished, she cracked open a beer and drank half of it before sitting down at the kitchen table. Never mind it wasn't 8:30 yet.

Her father had mentored most of the attorneys in the county, and it seemed half of the legal establishment on this side of the state owed something to his memory, or to his daughter at least. She would not lack for suitable representation.

 _But I don't_ _ **want**_ _a divorce. We've been together our entire lives._

To even agree that the marriage was broken would be to lose the battle right out of the gate.

 _I'm going to fight this. I_ _ **refuse**_ _to be utterly humiliated here in my hometown. Mama and Daddy always said there were only two kinds of people – winners, and everyone else._

 _They did not bring me up to lose to some Scottish bitch from nowhere._


	12. The Real Person

**A/N: I wrote the flashback part of this chapter ages ago (last month). It's a lot of telling instead of showing, but I really loved the idea of Ruby seeing what's going on with Charles. Major kudos to BeBraveBeLion, who hit the nail on the head regarding Alice. Also thanks for the reviews! Thank you to Longlivequeenvic, who I can't respond to, but I love your enthusiasm!**

Alice soon realized that Charlie had already moved many of his possessions out. Hardly anything was left in the house that she thought would be of particular value to him.

With one exception.

A picture hung half-hidden near the kitchen door. She had never liked it, which was why it was in a place where it was rarely seen. It was a photograph Charlie had taken years before of the cabin in winter. Snow was heavy on its roof. The only colors visible were the orange glow of a kerosene lamp burning in one window and a patch of the darkened blue sky at sunset.

She sat at the table, fingering the picture and kicking herself for not being more adamant with him. She had pleaded with him to sell his grandfather's cabin after his father died, his mother having passed a few years prior.

It was old. Worthless. A sagging pile of wood up the mountain, just above Solomon Creek.

But for one of the only times in their marriage, he was stubborn.

He refused to get rid of it.

000000000000000000

 _ **Twenty years before**_

 _He wiped at his brow, feeling the sweat and grime of a hard days' work. He looked in satisfaction at what he'd done._

" _Wow, it looks different." He turned, his heart leaping at the sight of her._

" _I'm glad you came! Look-" he pulled her by the hand up the stairs across the porch. "I've done even more inside. See, I knocked down this wall. My plan is to build another here, extend the wall there, and there will be a third bedroom. It'll be small, but having three bedrooms will be helpful in the future."_

" _But why, Charlie?" she whined. The tone of her voice made his heart sink. "Why bother? We have a lovely house in town, why put so much into a little cabin in the woods?"_

 _He swallowed both his excitement and his anger. He wanted her to understand. "Yes, we have our house in town. And it's beautiful. But this-" he waved his hand around "-I hope this can be a sanctuary for us. For when we want to get away." He realized he'd chosen the wrong words when she laughed. It was a bitter, hollow sound._

" _I appreciate the effort," she said, sounding the opposite. "But I thought you'd know by now, after all of our years together, when I want to 'get away', I mean a place CLOSER to civilization."_

 _He wanted to scream. You had your chance, he wanted to bellow._ _ **I**_ _had my chance. We could have gone to Chicago, at least tried to achieve our dreams, but it never happened. And for some reason, you seem to blame me for why we're still living here. I would have been willing to go anywhere to make you happy._ _ **You**_ _wanted to come back._

 _But he didn't say any of this to her._

 _After they returned home after Adam's wedding, she was annoyed that he would consider leaving the Downton Hotel, a notion that he found very odd. It was another chance to try something different. Again, he wondered what she really wanted._

 _Nothing changed. He stayed at Downton, and for a few years she was content. Her parents were ecstatic she was home._

 _He worked tirelessly to make the hotel successful. One of the proudest moments of his life was when it was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. Another was when it received a four-star rating._

 _Alice rarely came to the hotel, unless there was a fundraiser or a wedding. He didn't mind. Although there were times when he wished she understood better how the business worked._

 _He wanted to give her happiness. Nothing was too great for the challenge. Decorating a float each year for the Homecoming Parade. Putting off working at the cabin on the weekends to go to Lexington or Nashville with her. She loved traveling, but loved even more when they came home and she could regale Beryl and other friends with stories._

 _She left for the second time in their marriage four years after Adam and Becky's wedding._

 _That time she stayed with Charlie Grigg, his wife Regina, and their children in Los Angeles. The Griggs were successful television producers, and owned a guest house._

 _Alice was gone for ten months._

" _I don't say this lightly, Charlie, but do you have_ _ **any**_ _idea when she's coming back?" Beryl asked early one morning as he ate breakfast at The Red Fox._

" _No," he sipped his coffee. He told himself his eyes watered because of the hot liquid, but neither he nor Beryl were fooled. "Don't look at me like that. She'll come back. She misses me, her parents, you. She told me so on the phone. She just…needs more time."_

 _Beryl didn't press him after that. But when Alice left again, shortly before Charles's fortieth birthday (and their wedding anniversary), his friend was more blunt._

" _Have you ever thought about divorce?" She said one evening as she and her mother sat down in his office. "It's not right, all this separation. You've kept track of all the times she's left. You could easily file on grounds of abandonment."_

" _If you're worried about what her father will think, don't. The Almighty Judge Neale, God's gift to the county, won't be here forever. He may still hold weight with some in this community, but most here would give you moral support. Believe me." Ruby Patmore gave the pronouncement with all the force of a mountain. He smiled._

" _I appreciate your support. Both of you," he said, giving Beryl's hand a pat. "And…I won't deny that the thought has crossed my mind. But why not stay with her? She's my wife, my best friend-"_

" _Some friend," Ruby muttered under her breath. Beryl pursed her lips, nodding. Charles frowned at them, but continued on._

" _-and there's no one else on earth that could take her place. I made a vow," he said, staring pointedly at Beryl. "You know me, I take such things very seriously." She was at a loss as to what to say._

" _No one could accuse you of being dishonorable," Ruby said. "But it's plain as day to everyone around here that you're miserable."_

" _I miss my wife, but I'm not-"_

" _Don't argue with me, Charles Ernest Carson," rumbled the older woman, her pale blue eyes intense. "I've known you since you were two days old. If your mother were still with us, she'd say the same. You know what you remind me of?" she asked, her finger on her cheek. "A flower that's trapped in the rock, trying to find its way to the sun. Heaven help you if a woman ever really loves you. You'll bloom. That's what true love does."_

 _Charles rolled his eyes. "Very eloquent. Alice loves me," he said steadily. In his heart, something twinged, but he ignored it. "We have an understanding between us. I'm her anchor. She needs me."_

" _So much so that she leaves you for months?" Ruby raised her eyebrows. "I'll give her this – I think she loves the idea of you. The boy she chased around the schoolyard, the handsome young man who first kissed her at the Homecoming dance. The man who still loves her despite her flaws, and never asks her to change. But at what cost, Charlie? How many dreams have you set aside to try to make her happy? You bend over backwards for her, give in to her every whim."_

" _You're losing yourself," Beryl said. "To your credit, you've tried to show her the real you. You should not have to be ashamed of who you are."_

 _He sat up, indignant. "I do not give in to her every whim," he snapped. "And I'm not ashamed of who I am."_

" _Really?" Ruby snorted. "Then why is it every time you want to go up to the cabin Alice complains?_ _ **Every**_ _time. Or when you volunteered to help with the Children's Theater, and she sulked worse than any of those kids? By the way, Thomas Barrow juggled apples for me last week. You taught him well." She smiled gently, her eyes sad. "It bothers Alice when you work on the cabin or read poetry or go fishing because they are things that are all your own. Things that she can't reach. And she can't stand that._

 _You cannot_ _ **make**_ _her happy." Ruby sighed. "I pity you, Charlie. You have such a capacity to love, and you've never had the opportunity to really do so – especially to love someone who really loves you in return."_

 _It unsettled him to hear them speak about such things. Mostly because he'd had many of the same thoughts._

 _But he had made a vow._


	13. The Offer

**A/N: THIS IS THE FIRST OF TWO CHAPTERS POSTED TODAY.**

He unlocked the front door of the cabin, making a mental note to spray it with WD-40 when it squeaked. He dropped the large duffel bag in his bedroom before going out onto the back porch and sitting down.

Solomon Creek splashed below him. Through the trees, he caught a glint of the morning sun on the lake.

He sighed.

 _Now I can look forward to the rest of my life._

He wanted to call Elsie, but knew she would be in Lexington most of the day.

He prayed Becky and Adam would not be too angry with her. Or with him.

00000000000

 _ **Three years before**_

 _The Waikiki beach was crowded. Elsie smiled, enjoying the sunset, before going up to her suite._

 _Hawaii was beautiful. But she was tired of sand and of living out of her suitcase._

 _ **As if you've ever done anything else. Perhaps it is time for a change.**_

 _She sank down on the bed, thinking. Beryl's offer was very tempting. Becky's sister-in-law had called her earlier that day and offered her the job of manager at The Red Fox. Ruby Patmore had passed away a week before. Elsie felt a lump in her throat. Despite only meeting her a few times at family gatherings, she felt the loss of a dear woman._

 _The restaurant had become very popular, especially in the last five years. Beryl was capable of managing, but as head chef, it would be impossible for her to do both. It was almost a full-time job to handle bookings and other events. Not to mention coordinating frequently with the staff at the Downton Hotel._

 _Elsie had managed several luxurious historic establishments before becoming a consultant. To her peers, Beryl's restaurant would appear to be a major downgrade._

 _But she was ready to put roots down somewhere. And managing The Red Fox would mean being only a couple of hours drive away from her closest family._

 _That made the difference._

 _She accepted the offer._

 _0000000000_

" _I'm very impressed," Elsie said as she and Beryl finished the tour. "The staff is professional, and I see very little that needs to be improved."_

" _Thank you," Beryl blushed. "Most of the staff are local kids, with a couple of exceptions. They'll be pleased to meet with your approval."_

" _Really," Elsie laughed. "If we're going to work together, there's no need to be so formal. I may have worked at some fancy places, but I'm not that fancy myself."_

" _That's good to know, since I'm not either," Beryl smiled. Elsie went to her office to organize her desk and to look over the accounts._

 _It was better than she had hoped. The Red Fox had a cozy atmosphere, with a touch of sophistication that made it perfect both for the locals' breakfasts as well as hosting a fundraising dinner for the Governor. She hadn't yet seen much of the Downton, but so far it too seemed to fit._

 _She was sitting in a booth eating her lunch when Beryl approached, followed by a tall man._

 _Her heart skipped several beats._

 _Charles Carson._

 _Seventeen years had not changed him much. He had more lines on his face, but his bearing was as distinguished as ever._

 _ **I completely forgot he owned the hotel**_ _._

" _I don't know if you remember, but this is Mr. Charles Carson, the owner of the Downton," Beryl said. "Charlie, Elsie Hughes, my new manager."_

" _I remember you," Elsie said, standing up and swallowing a bite of salad too fast. She turned her head and coughed for several seconds into her elbow before shaking his hand. "Sorry," she whispered, her eyes tearing up. "I just-" she grabbed her napkin and coughed some more into it._

" _I should apologize," he said, looking concerned. "I've interrupted your lunch." His deep voice made her stomach flutter. She wiped her eyes and mouth, flushing red with embarrassment._

" _Not at all. I was nearly finished."_

" _Charlie, what time would work best for you to meet about the conference next month?" Beryl turned to Elsie. "You said around half past three?" She nodded._

" _That would be fine," Charles gave Elsie a small smile. "I'll see you both then. I do remember you," he said softly. "At Adam and Becky's wedding. You were an excellent maid of honor. I was the not-quite best man."_

" _You were, not to worry," Elsie said without thinking. He gave her a quick nod before leaving with Beryl._

 _Elsie sat down and put her head on the table._

 _ **Why is it every time I'm around him I'm embarrassed?**_

 _00000000000_

 _Life settled into a smooth pattern. She worked six days a week, switching between days depending on if there was an event to run. Her apartment was small. It sat on the second floor of a building which housed a clothing store on the edge of town. She could walk almost anywhere._

 _The river was across the road from her building, and she loved to go sit on one of the benches next to it and read. She met Phyllis Molesley, the local florist, and her husband Joe. She had heard about Phyllis from Thomas Barrow, and his description, for once, fit. She liked the quiet woman immediately. Bill Mason, the local grocer, became another fast friend, as did Anna Smith, who was engaged to Charles's cousin. She was much younger than Elsie, but both women understood what it meant to survive rough childhoods._

 _She felt as though she had known Beryl forever. Other than some friction over who should be in charge of the supply orders, they got along like a house on fire. For the first time, Elsie felt she was home._

 _Then there was Charles Carson._

 _She saw him occasionally in meetings, or while he ate breakfast. About a month after she arrived, there was a staff shortage in both the restaurant and the hotel for several days due to a flu outbreak. Those that were lucky enough (or unlucky enough) to dodge the bullet worked double shifts and did everything possible to keep things running._

 _He was shocked to find her in the hotel laundry one morning, washing towels and bedding._

" _What are you doing? You don't have to do that," he said, opening a dryer and emptying it. "You've got enough to do, helping Beryl."_

" _We all do what we can, Mr. Carson," she said, too tired to explain that she'd done virtually every job in the hospitality industry. "We can't have guests sleep on dirty sheets. Then they won't stay for breakfast." She looked up from the washer in time to see him standing blankly in front of the dryer, almost nodding off. "You'll make yourself ill, you've not had three hours of sleep in the last two days."_

 _He started, waking from his doze, and put a hand on her arm lightly as she left to go back to the restaurant._

" _Thank you, Elsie. I really appreciate your help. More than you know," he said before gathering the linens to fold and take upstairs. "You should try to go home this morning. You're tired as well. I'm used to it," he said with a wry grin. She nodded in response._

 _As she hurried across the lobby, she knew if she went home she'd never sleep. He couldn't possibly know what his touch did to her._

 _Nor would he ever know._


	14. The Kiss

**A/N: SECOND CHAPTER UP TODAY.**

 **Legal stuff – I did internet research on divorce in a certain state. I'm not sure how accurate it is, but I did not make it up.**

She parked, opening the truck door at the same time. She got out carefully, mindful of the slippery gravel. It would not do to worry him by falling.

She hurried up the stairs and found him in the living room, his face in his hands.

"What is it?" she whispered, her hands on his shoulders. "I came as soon as I could."

He wrapped his arms around her thickened waist, pulling her closer to him, and pressed his face into the bump that was their child.

"Your papa is a fool," he said. He raised his head a little, and she saw tears in his eyes. "A stupid, stupid fool." He kissed her bump and sighed. "Alice denied under oath that the marriage is broken. And the judge, instead of looking at the facts and ruling that it _is_ irretrievably broken, instead ruled that we are to have a 'conciliation conference'. Next month."

Another delay. Elsie closed her eyes. Truthfully, she had not expected Alice to capitulate easily. _No, she expected_ _ **you**_ _to do that._ She bit her lip. "What did Mr. Napier say? Surely he could have argued-"

"He did everything he could," Charles said. He leaned back and motioned for her to sit. She did, their hands intertwined. "But Judge Julian would not be dissuaded. I forgot he was yet another friend of old Judge Neale."

Bristling, Elsie's eyes flashed. "He's a judge. He's not supposed to be swayed by an old friendship!"

"I think he felt guilty about it, he avoided looking at me directly," Charles replied. "Warren Napier is convinced, and I agree, that he will declare the marriage broken. Eventually." He squeezed her hands. "I'm so sorry, Elsie. I should have known she would want to delay things as much as possible." A tear ran down his face, and she wiped it off. "I should have divorced her years ago. If I could, I would marry you right now."

"I know," she whispered, her heart aching. Leaning her forehead against him, she kissed him softly. "There's no use regretting the past. It's done. And I can handle being a figure of curiosity."

"But you should not have to endure the gossip and scorn because of me," he protested. "And don't say you haven't noticed people whispering about you in town. Beryl told me about you crying the other day."

She wanted to deny it, or to say that she'd been hormonal. "True, I was upset," she said thickly. "I should not have let a couple of old women make me feel inferior. Thank God you and I have friends here. We're not alone."

He ran his thumb across her cheek. "Still, it's my fault you're stared at like you're Hester Prynne. _I_ should be the one walking around with the scarlet letter _A_ hanging round my neck."

To his surprise, she laughed quietly. "I'm just as much at fault as you are. You never forced me to do anything I didn't _want_ to do." She kissed his hand, feeling tears coming. "I just worry that our child will suffer because of our actions."

"We could leave," he said quickly. "We've talked about it-"

"And I still say no," she said with conviction. "This is our home. We both love it here. Downton is your place, you've worked most of your life to make it a success. And I'm happy working with Beryl, even if we still occasionally fight like cats over the supply order." She sighed. "Whatever comes, we'll face it together."

He kissed her, loving the way she hummed into his mouth. "I love you."

000000000000

 _ **Two years before**_

 _He knew he shouldn't._

 _He tried to think of Alice, as if she was there._

 _ **But she's not. She left. Again.**_

 _Alice had gone to Atlanta the previous month._

 _He did not miss her as much as before, and it bothered him._

 _A little._

 _He was heading to the cabin that Saturday to paint and to work on the roof. Beryl insisted someone go with him in case he broke his neck._

 _He wished her nephew Archie hadn't sprained his ankle playing football, or that Beryl didn't have to meet with an engaged couple to discuss menus._

 _Elsie said she didn't mind coming by. She said she had no other plans for her day off._

 _We're just friends, he insisted to himself._

 _A strikingly beautiful friend who wasn't fazed when he was grumpy with staff. Someone who he could rely on. A woman who wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Someone who he found himself looking forward to seeing when he arrived at Downton every day._

 _They could talk about anything, from architecture to Wordsworth._

 _She teased him. Secretly, he liked it._

 _There was no one like her._

 _Careful, he warned himself. You're married._

 _And furthermore, Elsie didn't feel that way about him. He was just another sad fiftyish man who was past his prime._

 _000000000000_

 _The morning went by quickly. The weather was dry, and the sun gave off heat that they felt by noon. Elsie was so warm she removed her zippered jacket, leaving her wearing her sporty sleeveless shirt._

 _Charles stripped off his old sweatshirt, leaving his t-shirt on. "I hope you had enough to eat. I'm not Beryl, by any stretch-"_

" _The sandwiches and pie were fine, thank you," Elsie smiled, drinking cold water from the thermos. He looked down, scuffing his boot. He hoped she didn't notice his face reddening. The sun brought out the rich colors of her hair and the freckles visible on her bare shoulders._

 _You have no right, Charlie boy, he warned himself again. Why are you even thinking about that? With effort, he pulled himself back to the present._

" _Well, I've got to patch the roof."_

" _I'll keep painting the porch," she said, getting to her feet. "It isn't bad, especially with that great view of the creek to enjoy. But," her eyes twinkled at him, "I_ _ **will**_ _hold the ladder when you get on the roof. I promised Beryl not to let you break your neck." He grinned._

" _I'll do my best not to. I'd rather not end up at the hospital."_

" _Because your neck's broken? Or because Beryl beat you?"_

" _Both," he said in his driest voice. She laughed._

 _She held the ladder steady as he started to climb up. She swallowed hard at the sight of his firm backside and strong legs. For a man of nearly fifty, he was in fine shape. And the way his shirt clung to his chest, she could see the muscles in his back…_

 _Stop it, Elsie, she chastised herself. He's a married man. He wouldn't possibly think of_ _ **you**_ _that way, anyway. You're being silly._

 _00000000000_

 _He carried the ladder to his truck, his arm muscles bulging as he set the heavy equipment in the bed._

 _She stood next to her truck farther down the sloping driveway. He walked down to her, his hands twitchy. He put them in his pockets and pulled them out again._

" _Thank you for helping me today," he said quietly. "I couldn't have done it without you."_

" _You should be proud of the work you've done alone," she said, looking into his eyes, smiling. "But you're welcome. I was glad to keep you company."_

 _He intended to shake her hand._

 _Instead, he leaned forward, aiming for her cheek. Just a friendly peck between friends. Harmless._

 _They both moved._

 _Suddenly his lips were grazing hers. Her breath hitched before she could control it. They stepped back._

 _ **What have you done? You need to walk away. NOW.**_

 _They stared at each other. Guilt. Sadness. Regret._

 _Desire._

 _His lips met hers, and this time neither one stepped back. Her arms encircled him. She could feel his heartbeat, the warmth of him. His hands went into her hair, and she gasped, clinging tighter to him. Her knees weakened._

 _She had never been kissed like this before._

 _Her scent, and the taste of blackberry pie on her tongue, was intoxicating. Her hair flowed through his fingers, and she fit perfectly beneath his chin. He felt a rush so strong he almost fell over. She hummed into his mouth, and he moaned aloud._

 _Time passed._

 _They broke apart, both so overwhelmed they stumbled. He half-tripped over his toolbox, while she fell against her truck. They looked at each other for one long moment. His dark eyes and the bulge in his jeans; her flushed skin, tangled hair, and swollen lips._

" _I'm sorry," he said, running a hand through his own hair. He desperately wished – what did he wish? To hold her, to feel her? Or to never touch her again? He felt his ring, tight around his finger. "I'm so sorry," he repeated. "I-I didn't mean to do that. Truly."_

 _He wasn't sorry, and he knew he had meant it._

 _But there was no way he could say it. Or should. Or want to._

" _I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes on the ground. "Um, I'll go now." She got in the truck, started the ignition, backed down the driveway, and disappeared._

 _He was horrified with himself. Not because he had kissed her despite his marital status. Or because it was categorically wrong._

 _But because he wanted to taste her again._


	15. The Lull

**A/N: This is a continuation of the flashback at the end of the last chapter, "The Kiss".**

She drove back into town as the sun was setting. Walking into her apartment, she was not aware she moved at all.

 _He kissed me. Charles Carson kissed me._

 _Let's not beat around the bush, girl. That was more than a kiss._

Her entire body tingled, as if she had been lit from within. But at the same time, a painful thought was breaking through her giddy aura.

 _Nothing is going to come from this. Nothing CAN come from this. He's married. He is a man of integrity and honor, and you don't want to ruin him._

Elsie touched her hair softly. It needed brushing, but she was reluctant to do it. It was as if she could still feel his hands in her hair.

 _If you want him, you can take him,_ a quiet voice whispered in her mind. _You saw how much he wanted you._

 _It would be easy. His wife isn't here._

Her stomach heaved. With shaking hands, she put a kettle on the stove and boiled water for tea.

"It's not about what I want," she whispered. She had no idea what Charles and Alice's relationship was like, only that they had known each other their entire lives. And that she left for long periods of time.

 _He's probably lonely. Every man has his limits. You were just a convenient outlet._

 _It's been a while since you last dated anyone, too._

Her head and heart throbbed.

0000000000

The taste of her lingered on his lips, in his mouth. Even after he'd eaten supper, and drank two glasses of Cabernet.

 _She kissed you. "Kiss" may be too narrow a word. The things Elsie did with her tongue-_

He moaned at the memory. Both from the pleasure it brought, as well as the pain.

 _It will not happen again. It CANNOT happen again. Alice deserves better than a cad. And Elsie is a respectable woman. You don't want to destroy her reputation or your friendship._

 _If she still wants to be friends after this._

Charles smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt. It was as if God had made him the precise size to hold her in his arms.

 _No one would have to know. Especially not the absent Mrs. Carson._

 _Did you see the way she looked at you? You could have been in bed with her right now._

Disgusted, he went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth until his gums bled.

"You made a vow," he whispered, staring into the mirror. "It doesn't matter that Alice is away, or that Elsie is a beautiful woman, inside and out."

 _She works so much. She hasn't had time to meet many people. Soon she'll meet someone who interests her._

 _She probably felt sorry for me. That's why it happened._

He lay awake for hours, his stomach churning.

000000000000

"I wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

Elsie looked up from the calendar for August. Beryl raised her eyebrows.

She closed her eyes, willing her to go away. Beryl closed her office door and sat down. "Gwen and some of the others call you the Scottish Dragon now. Did you know that?"

"Yes," she scowled defiantly. The chef hesitated, her eyes soft.

"You may fool most people, but you don't fool me. In the last three months, you've dated more men than I have in thirty years. But no one's sticking. You're trying to forget someone, but he won't be forgotten." She picked up a brochure and fanned herself. "Try to deny it."

Elsie glared at Beryl. "It's my business. Not yours," she hissed in an icy voice.

"When your business starts to affect my staff, then it _is_ my business," Beryl leaned forward. Elsie looked at the wall. "Oh, come on, girl. It's happened to all of us. I've seen it too many times with my other best friend, Mr. Carson."

"He's trying to forget a man?" Elsie asked sarcastically, ignoring the painful stab in her chest at the sound of his name.

Beryl rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. He's had his heart broken several times, and he still manages to be pleasant-"

"If you've come to talk about Charles Carson, then you can leave. I'm busy," Elsie snapped. She got up and opened the door. Her friend's mouth fell open.

"God in Heaven," she whispered.

"I don't want to talk about God, either."

Beryl got up and put her hand on the doorknob, covering Elsie's hand.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

Elsie bit her lip, trying to keep control, but the façade crumbled.

She backed against the wall, looking down. "Charles kissed me."

"What!? When?" Beryl was shocked - and not shocked. _This explains a lot. For both of them._

"April," she replied thickly. "At the cabin. We…haven't really spoken since."

Beryl nodded at the timeframe. "You've both kept your distance since then. I wondered why…" she rubbed her face. "Well, he's gone to Atlanta at least once a month all summer, and you're dating for once. It's not working, though, is it? Elsie," she held her friend's arm, "you're miserable."

"What _can_ I do?" Elsie whispered, closing the door and leaning against it. "I-I've tried to forget it, I really have…but I can't. And I know it does no good to think about it."

Beryl hugged her. "I don't think there is any easy answer." She blew out a breath. "I can't say I didn't see this coming – for Charlie. Why he's stayed with Alice, I have no idea-"

"Well, he has," snapped Elsie. "And so I'm the 'other woman' that he kissed. Thanks for the reminder."

"He didn't _mean_ it, though?" Beryl asked. "You would never lead him on."

"Of course he didn't mean it," Elsie said, her head against the door. "It was an accident. A fluke. Temporary insanity – whatever you want to call it."

In her heart, she vividly recalled the day. Whatever she said, she knew _she_ had meant it.

Not that she could say that, or admit it.

Or justify why she felt that way.

"Listen," Beryl said. "I don't know how to solve this, but I want you to take a week off. Get away somewhere alone. You need to clear your head. The staff liked you when you first came, but you've been bitchy lately."

"I'm sorry, I'll apologize to them," Elsie sighed. "They deserve much better than my fiery temper."

The chef returned to the kitchen with a sense of foreboding.

 _I know one thing that would help._

 _I hope Charlie can convince Alice to come home soon._

0000000000000

John lit his cigarette and puffed out a long breath of smoke.

"I thought you were going to quit." Charles crossed his arms, listening to the sounds of the summer sunset in the woods.

A wry grin appeared on his cousin's face. "I am. Anna gave me until the end of the month, then I'm quitting cold turkey." He turned to Charles. "But after what you told me, I'm glad I still do." He blew out another breath. "I sound like a broken record, but you need to divorce Alice. Sooner rather than later."

 _This again._ Charles leaned against the porch railing. "Just because you divorced doesn't mean _I_ should. Alice hasn't been cruel, and she's never cheated on me-"

"No, but she's left you how many times? I've lost count," John said. "Sometimes marriages peter out, not all of them end like mine with Vera."

"My parents were married for forty years. We've been married for twenty-seven," Charles sighed, running his hand through his hair. "You don't understand."

John raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand? Don't patronize me, Charlie. My father was a right bastard. I'm not sorry at all Mother divorced him. And Vera and I were toxic together, you saw that. But your parents were different. They loved each other."

"It's different for you," Charles played with his ring. "Not just because your ex was a shrew. You're still young, you'll live easily for another forty years. Besides, I love Alice," he said, not convincingly. John barked out a laugh.

"Really? Maybe you need to tell me again why you've lost weight. You hardly sleep. Surely it has something to do with kissing Elsie Hughes?"

"It was an accident," Charles growled. "A one-off incident." He stared out at the darkened trees, wishing he hadn't said so much.

"I saw you," John said softly. "Last week, when Anna and I were at the Music Festival, I saw you watching Elsie with her date. You looked lost." He took another drag. "You're a strong man, Charlie. But you're dancing on a knife's edge." He sighed. "I just don't want you to have regrets."

"I already do," he murmured, hardly knowing what they were.

John blew out another puff of smoke.

 _Hopefully, Elsie will find someone. Soon._


	16. The Argument

**A/N: Well, my intention was to get this out to you Saturday, but Paris happened, and my heart hurts. Vive la Paris.**

 **Also, the chapter was 4000+ words. So I chopped it up.**

 **This is the first chapter that's posted today. One of several.**

He should have known something was wrong the moment he walked into the conference with Mr. Napier. Alice was entirely too calm, her attorney too professional. Judge Julian reviewed everything again, including Charles's relationship with Elsie.

He had to fight not to squirm when the judge looked at the notes from Dr. Clarkson and the results of the DNA test confirming that yes, Charles Carson was the father of Elsie Hughes's child.

It was worth enduring the embarrassment when the judge declared that he and Alice's marriage was legally broken.

The only thing left to deal with was the settlement. Charles offered Alice their house, most of the items in it, and a more than generous alimony payment.

In response, her attorney replied that since she was not entitled to any share in Downton (which Charles silently thanked his parents for, for placing the property into a trust), Alice was requesting ownership of the cabin.

All the relief that he had felt was immediately replaced with anger.

 _She's always hated that place. Always. Even before we were married, she didn't like it._

 _She wants it simply to spite us._

He fleetingly thought of giving it to her simply to finalize the divorce.

But it meant too much to him. And Elsie.

Alice gave him a little smile across the table, which infuriated him. He refused her request, point-blank.

Her smile widened when another hearing was arranged the following month to discuss it.

000000000000

 _ **Eighteen months previously**_

 _An hour of splitting logs had not tempered his frustration. His t-shirt was soaked through, and he reluctantly put on his sweatshirt back on again. It would not do to freeze. The sky blazed blue, while around him the orange and red leaves swirled in a kaleidoscope of color._

 _He and Alice had fought the last weekend he had visited her. He had begged her to come home. She accused him of being needy, and coldly replied that her obligations would keep her in Atlanta until at least Thanksgiving. If not after._

 _Just thinking about it earlier that morning again had enraged him. He had removed his ring and left it in the glove box of his truck._

 _Swinging the ax, he let out a bellow. Some thirty feet below him on the slope, two men on the hiking trail looked up in surprise. He gave them a short wave as they passed by._

 _ **At the rate you're going, you'll have enough wood to heat the cabin for the next three years.**_

 _He paused and leaned on his ax. His breath billowed around him._

 _It wasn't Alice being away that was torturing him. That fact in itself was another form of torture._

 _Working for another half an hour, he sat to rest, drinking cold water from his canteen. He hadn't been sitting for long when another hiker came into view. He blinked rapidly along with his suddenly hammering heart._

 _She delighted in the crunch of leaves under her feet, glad that since she'd left the river, the trail had been a continuous climb. Her breath came out in pants. She wanted to remove her jacket, but knew it was too cold._

 _At least she'd managed to put a muzzle on her frustration at work. Hiking helped work some of that out. She shook her head. Maybe it had been a bad idea to stop dating, but it wasn't like her heart had been into it._

 _Forgetting was as impossible as ever._

 _The creek had split off to her right, with part of it heading down to the river and the other to a small lake she could glimpse through the trees. She stopped to catch her breath, wondering if another trail led there, when she heard her name._

" _Elsie?"_

 _She could recognize his voice in her sleep._

 _He stood above her, hesitating on the side of the hill. She looked up at him, an inquisitive look on her face. Her cheeks were red both with cold and the exertion of her walk. He noticed her fingernails, normally filed perfectly, were so short as to be almost nonexistent. He didn't know she bit her nails. Her eyes darted from him to the cabin further up the hill._

" _Hello," she finally said. "I didn't know your cabin was this close to the trail."_

" _You can't see it from the back porch. The hill hides it from view," he replied, licking his lips. She still had not moved. "It's good to see you."_

 _Why, she wanted to scream. It was all she could do to keep her expression neutral. Truthfully, she was shocked to see him this close after avoiding him for months._

 _Dark shadows were under his eyes, which only made his nose more prominent. She noticed he wore a belt with his jeans, evidence of his significant weight loss. But it was the look in his eyes that upset her the most. They were dull. Tired._

 _She felt a surge of anger. If Alice had been there, she would have flown at her._ _ **He's not well! Anyone can see it! And you, his**_ _ **wife**_ _ **, don't seem to care at all!**_

 _She was glad Beryl had been trying to get him to eat more, not that she had been successful._

" _Would you mind if I rested a while here?" she heard herself ask. A minute before, she had been determined to keep on walking._

 _A smile broke across his face, a gleam appearing in his eyes. "Not at all. Sit here."_

 _He motioned to a tree stump as she clambered up the steep slope. She dropped her backpack on the ground and sat down._

 _She gratefully took his offered canteen, taking a long drink. The leaves fluttered down around them._

" _Thank you," she said. "For the water." Another long moment passed. "How are you?"_

 _He shrugged, his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Well enough." He tried to think of something else to say._

 _She closed her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was break the peaceful moment, but the memory of their last meeting alone overshadowed everything._

" _We need to talk. About what happened."_

 _His mouth went dry. No, his brain shouted. I can't. Because I can't tell you the truth._

" _What is there to say?" he asked. His voice cracked. She looked at him sharply._

" _I know you were…lonely. That it was an accident. But surely we can move past it by speaking freely."_

" _I have moved on," he rasped, clearing his throat. "I just wanted to give you space. I didn't want to give you the wrong impression-"_

 _ **Liar**_ _, screamed his brain. You've been avoiding her._

" _What impression is that?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "That you wanted to kiss me? Do you think I am the sort of woman who would enjoy being kissed by a married man?"_

 _ **You've been trying to forget how much you enjoyed it, girl. Without success.**_

" _Of course I didn't want to kiss you," he huffed. "It was a mistake. And you're a woman of high standards. I would never assume any different."_

 _ **I'm the cad who's been tormented by the thought of you when I'm supposed to be missing my wife.**_

" _Oh, I see," she seethed. "So you used me for your own purposes. And I'm supposed to be soothed by you complimenting my standards?"_

 _Her heart was shattering within her. How does it feel, whispered a voice, to know that while you've been in agony, he was merrily living the last few months as if it never happened?_

" _That's not fair!" he cried. "I never_ _used_ _you. You were the one who said it was an accident!"_

" _Because it was," she snapped, standing up. "A convenient accident. For you. And you wonder why I've avoided you? Heaven forbid you 'accidentally' forget you're married again, just in time to gratify yourself at my expense!"_

 _That was a low blow, and deep down, she knew it._

 _The memory of her with someone else at the Music Festival enraged him, and he spoke without thinking._

" _R_ _ight, because you_ _never_ _need to worry about upholding any vows," he snarled, hating himself. "Or finding gratification. You can find it wherever you want to! I'm surprised to see you by yourself today. What happened, have you already grown tired of all the men around here?"_

 _She stepped forward and slapped him so hard the sound echoed through the trees. "How_ _dare_ _you," she cried. "It is none of your business if I date a man, or more than one, or none. I suppose you thought you'd take your chance back in April!" she shouted, shaking with anger. "And to think I felt sorry for you! It's no wonder Alice leaves all the time!"_

" _Get out," he croaked, his face white. He picked up her backpack and flung it at her. "Get off my property! Now!"_

 _She picked it up, shifting it onto her shoulders with an angry snort, her eyes blazing. She half-walked, half-slid down the hill back to the trail. She disappeared quickly through the trees._

 _Yelling, he picked up the ax and threw it as far as he could. It hit a tree and spun end over end before crashing into the ground a hundred feet away._

 **TBC…**


	17. The Return

**A/N: SECOND CHAPTER TODAY. FLASHBACK CONTINUES…**

 _He stomped by Solomon Creek without seeing it. He picked up stones and threw them. Bellowing in rage, he picked up a large stick and shattered it against a tree._

 _ **You've really made a mess. She hates you.**_

 _What she had said about Alice hurt. As if it wasn't bad enough that his wife left for long periods of time, now he was recounting what he had said or done. Maybe it_ _was_ _his fault that she left so often, and he was just too insensitive to realize it._

 _ **That's not true. You've bent over backwards with Alice to make her happy. Whatever the reason she keeps leaving, it's not your fault.**_

 _If only what Elsie had said about him using her didn't cut so deeply. Part of him felt he had. Why else had he kissed her? It was an accident, she said. He knew better._

 _ **Because you wanted to. Without thinking about what she felt or wanted. You only thought of yourself.**_

 _It was an accident to her. An unwelcome one. Obviously, it bothered her. And instead of putting her at ease, he'd let his own thwarted emotions vent and insulted her. He put his hands on his head and walked up to the cabin. Where his heart should have been, he only felt a void._

 _So this is the rest of your life, a voice whispered. Your wife would rather stay away from you. You made one genuine friend in the last year, and then managed to destroy that friendship._

 _He was tired. So tired._

 _There was already wood in the fireplace, as well as extra stacked on the front porch. Never mind it wasn't even noon, and the sun shone brightly. Everything seemed dark before him._

 _He lit a fire and sat on the couch. Watching the flickering flames, he cried._

 _He doubted he would get a chance to apologize._

 _0000000000000_

 _She was blind to the beauty of the woods as she stomped up the trail._

 _ **How dare you. How DARE you! 'Finding gratification wherever she wanted to'?**_

 _It was as if he called her a whore. She wished she had punched him in the face, instead of slapping him. He deserved it._

 _Gasping for breath, she ascended the end of the trail and stopped. Her view was blocked by tears._

 _She bent over and hugged her aching knees, sobbing for several minutes. Regaining her composure, she stood looking at the view below her, of the narrow valley half-hidden by the fall foliage._

 _He'd moved on. He never wanted to kiss her. Or so he said._

 _ **Surely that should come as a comfort. He is married, as you so nicely reminded him.**_

 _The thought that he'd felt nothing hurt as though she'd been stabbed, and the knife twisted inside. No. It was the fact that she_ _knew_ _he'd felt something, but wouldn't admit it. How were they supposed to 'move on', as he put it, if they couldn't be honest with each other?_

 _Perhaps he was as afraid of admitting he felt anything as much as she was._

 _She turned and started back down the trail. She reached the bend near his cabin close to an hour past noon. Her body ached with the day's activity._

 _He wasn't by the tree stump and the half-stacked pile of wood. She swallowed, feeling guilty._

 _ **I should not have said that about Alice. What he said was wrong, but he didn't deserve that.**_

 _ **I should apologize.**_

 _ **If he'll listen. We were friends once.**_

 _ **I don't know if we can be again, but it's worth a try.**_

 _She tripped over something in the deep leaves as she circled the hill below the cabin. Looking down, she picked up the ax. She carried it up the hill before leaving it by the front door._

 _She hesitated before knocking._

" _Hello?"_

 _She knocked again before turning the doorknob and poking her head inside._

 _The top of his head was visible from the couch. A fire crackled in the fireplace. She took a deep breath and went in._

 _The afternoon sun made shadows on the floor and illumined part of the red and yellow woven rug. Charles twitched, turning his head in sleep. Tearstains were visible on his face._

 _Her heart ached._

 _She sat in a rocking chair by the fire as he slept. He did not rest easily. Every minute she thought he would wake._

 _He mumbled, spoke nonsense. Then he clearly said her name._

" _Elsie. Elsie," he whispered._

 _Her face flushed and she bit her lip._

 _ **Your instinct was correct, it seems.**_

 _Not that she expected for it to be confirmed. He would probably throw her out again when he woke up._

 _She started out of a sound sleep. The shadows on the floor had moved, betraying the time. Stretching, she stood up and stoked the fire, turning a log to let the other side burn._

 _He still slept, deeper this time. She resisted the urge to smooth back a wild curl flopped on his forehead._

 _Eventually, he breathed deeply and blinked, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes._

" _Elsie? What are you doing here?" he murmured, seeing her. She got up, taking courage from his tone. He didn't sound angry. Just surprised._

" _I wanted to apologize," she said in a rush. "I was angry and I should not have said what I did about…about Alice. Or...the other things."_

" _If anyone deserves an apology, it's you," he said, sitting up. "I was horrible to you. You had every right to slap me." His hair was askew, but she was distracted by a fine bruise visible on his cheek. She could make out a faint shape of two fingers._

" _Oh my God…" she whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you…I mean, I_ _did_ _mean to hurt you, but…I'm sorry I hit you." She put a hand over her mouth. He covered his cheek gingerly and winced._

" _I've had worse."_

 _She looked down at the bright patterned rug over the wooden plank floor._

" _What made you come back?" he asked quietly, his hands resting on his knees. "I know, you said to apologize, but why now?"_

 _She sighed, crossing her arms. "I didn't want to wait until later, another day, and let things go on the way they have been. We…were friends for a while. I thought – maybe we could try again? That's why," she swallowed, "I…wanted to talk before about what happened in the spring. I hope I haven't made too much of a mess." She wanted to be honest, but she also didn't want to scare him off immediately. If they weren't friends, there would be no reason for honesty._

 _He blinked for a few moments, focusing on the floor. He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing._

 _ **She's braver than you are. First to bring up the kiss, and now to apologize.**_

 _He was ashamed of himself, more than before._

" _I'm surprised you still want to be friends with me," he said, not looking at her. "After the way I've treated you, and what I said."_

" _I accused you of using me to please yourself," she said, her face glowing bright red. "That was very, very wrong of me."_

" _I don't blame you for thinking that," he said quietly. "You deserved better, and then I didn't even try to explain myself."_

 _ **You still can't.**_

" _I forgive you," he said. "If you'll forgive me." Only after he said it did he realize he meant it. She looked up, a faint glimmer in her eyes. "I want to be friends again. If anyone's made a mess, it's me."_

 _She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding._

" _Of course I forgive you. Let me take some of the blame for what's happened. I can handle that," she said gently. The quiet was disturbed by a loud growling sound._

 _An amused smile grew on her face. "Was that you?"_

 _He smiled back. "Yes. You've discovered my secret. I'm always hungry."_

" _We can't have that_ _," she said, her heart feeling lighter than it had in ages. Picking up her backpack, she felt hungry for the first time all day. "If you want, I can share. I packed enough food to eat for a week."_

" _No, I'll make something," he insisted, moving past her to the kitchen. "It's the least I can do."_

 **TBC…**


	18. The Cabin

**A/N: THIRD CHAPTER TODAY, BEGINNING WITH SIXTEEN. CONTINUING FLASHBACK…**

" _Checkmate."_

" _Again!?" she cried, flapping her arms. "Damn! I was so close-"_

 _He laughed, leaning on his elbow, his belly shaking._

" _Och, very funny," she pursed her lips, getting up from her seated position to kneel over the coffee table in front of the fire. "I think we need to play 5-card draw."_

" _You only want to play that because you won the last time," he chortled, holding his sides. "No, thank you." She raised her eyebrows._

" _Are you afraid of a game of poker?"_

" _No, I'm afraid of losing what little money I have left to you."_

 _She laughed heartily. "It's not my fault, Mr. Carson, that you are a hopeless at poker." She got up and headed to the kitchen. "More to eat?"_

" _I think I've had enough, thank you," he said, following her swaying hips with his eyes. He shook his head. Don't get started on_ _that_ _again, Charlie. Not when you're finally friends again._

" _Are you sure?" she called. "You ate a lot earlier, but that was hours ago."_

" _I've been eating for hours," he reminded her. "I'd best stop before I make myself ill." He was grateful that his appetite had returned. With a vengeance._

 _She came back into the living room and stopped, staring at the mantle clock above the fireplace. "Is it really almost nine o'clock? I thought it was closer to seven," She frowned. He glanced back at it to confirm the time._

" _I suppose it's the time change. It gets dark so early, every hour past sunset could be seven or midnight. Or three," he said. He paused. He had a crazy wish to ask her to stay._

 _But that would not be the right thing to do._

 _With a sigh, he got up. "I should get you back home."_

" _Yes," she said slowly. "I'm sorry to make you drive me, I should have left while it was still light."_

 _He waved his hand. "Don't trouble yourself. You already hiked up a mountain and back down today. I don't mind."_

" _Well," she bent over and picked up her backpack. "Thank you. For the afternoon. For the meal." She bit her lip. "And for forgiving me."_

" _You're welcome. Thank you for forgiving me as well," he picked up his keys to the truck. They felt heavy in his hand. "But let's put it behind us, like you said. Tomorrow is a new day."_

" _Indeed," she agreed quietly._

 _They walked to the door, her in front of him. She turned._

" _I'm very glad we're friends again."_

" _Yes. Friends," he muttered, trying to breathe normally. When she looked at him like that, he found it difficult. Her dark blue eyes gentle, her hair a warm red like the fire and old lamps that lit the room. He couldn't stop looking at her lips._

 _Dancing on a knife's edge._

 _She told herself to either, turn and open the door or to look away from his face. She couldn't do either. She couldn't make herself move at all. His scent was in her nostrils. He smelled of the woods, of fire and fallen leaves. A hint of winter honeysuckle._

 _They leaned closer, until she could see the individual bits of stubble on his chin. Their lips touched. The straps of her backpack slid from her fingers and the heavy bag dropped onto the floor._

 _ **Well, you did want to be honest.**_

" _This is wrong," he whispered. She nodded._

" _I know."_

 _Their lips pressed together again, more insistent but still cautious. Exploring. She hummed without realizing she did so. Tasting the ham and cornbread they'd eaten for supper, as well as a hint of apple pie, he opened his mouth further, searching. He savored the familiar taste which was Elsie._

" _Wrong," she breathed. He reached out tentatively, his hand on the side of her face._

" _Yes, we shouldn't," he murmured. They were so close he could feel the warmth of her body. They eyed each other for several moments, having a wordless conversation._

" _Wait," she breathed, pulling back from him. He felt the loss immediately. She peered at him from beneath her eyelashes. "I want you to know," she said quietly, "it-, I-I-, this isn't pity." She bit her lip, her eyes dark. She stepped forward again and put her hands on his strong chest, over his rapidly beating heart. He covered her hands with his own, understanding._

 _They were both lonely, that was true. But both had lived with it for years._

 _They knew going further was wrong. That it broke the fundamental rules that they both held dear._

 _She could not deny to herself what she felt. She could see that he could see it._

 _If he didn't want her, she would walk out and never say another word about it. She didn't know how, but she knew she couldn't - and wouldn't - force him to break his vows._

" _Are you sure?" he had to ask, feeling her small hands beneath his. It wasn't fair the way the world worked. If they crossed the barrier, and anyone found out, her reputation would suffer more than his._

 _In a strange way, it felt as though every person who had ever mattered to him was watching them. He was no longer denying what he felt. He knew it was wrong. But after their argument, she hadn't shut him out. She had come back. And here she was. Open, not hiding._

 _A woman who saw him as himself. After a lifetime of submerging his inner self, he was ready to live a little._

 _But if she wasn't sure, he would take her home and bury his feelings. He wasn't sure if he would be able to, but he could never push her to ignore her own principles._

 _Looking up into his eyes, her heart melted. Part of her wondered why now, why in these circumstances, this man had entered her life. As angry as she had been earlier, she never feared that he would lose his temper and hit her. And even now, he did not take advantage of her. He asked._

 _She took a deep breath and stepped off of the cliff into midair._

" _I have never been so sure," she whispered._

 _The earth tilted on its axis._

" _I've been so worn down these past months. I can't fight myself anymore," he whispered, his thumb rubbing her cheek. She smiled. Her eyes were soft. He shuddered, feeling as though a colossal weight had been lifted off of him. He tucked a stray hair over her ear, his finger lingering on the creamy skin of her neck. He could feel her pulse. Kissing her gently on her forehead, he enveloped her in a hug. "I know my word means less than nothing, but please believe me, Elsie. Ever since that day, I haven't stopped thinking about you." He stood up straight, gazing down at her again. "I can still taste you, feel you. I've barely slept. When I do, you haunt my dreams."_

 _She put a hand over his mouth, the memory of his spoken dreams ringing in her mind. He pressed his lips softly against her fingers, relishing the sound she made. She gasped, a soft "oh"._

 _She felt dizzy, as if the room had closed around them. The fire snapped. He leaned closer, and their mouths touched again, soft and languid. She reached up and curled her fingers into his wild black hair._

 _ **I have never wanted anyone as much as I want him.**_

 _Their kiss ended slowly. With a gentle caress, she sucked his lower lip, making him sigh. He slid his hands down her body, his thumbs tracing circles into her hips. She felt the heat of him as she gripped him tighter. He grunted when her breasts pressed into his chest._

" _I want you, Elsie," he murmured, as her fingers caressed the back of his neck. His eyes were alight, and he twisted his hips so that every part of him was touching her. "I want you." He bent his head and ghosted his lips down her cheek, below her ear, down her neck. "I want you." She moaned, her fingers digging into his skin. His heart leaped at the recognition that she felt the same._

" _Charles," she breathed shakily, "If you want me, you can have me."_

 **TBC…**


	19. The Fire

**A/N: LAST CHAPTER TODAY. GO BACK AND START WITH CHAPTER SIXTEEN IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY.**

 **Just a suggestion - try reading this while listening to "The Gael" (Best of Celtic Music) on YouTube. I tried to keep the rating a strong T, and not fall into an M.**

 **I own nothing related to DA. If you have time, please review. I love to know what you think!**

 _The brass bed gleamed in the dim light of the kerosene lamp. A part of her worried that it would be too cold, with the frost spreading on the windows and the fireplace in the other room._

 _There was no need to worry._

 _They took their time._

 _Their kisses grew ever more heated. Their hands wandered over shoulders and backs, under breasts, up arms, down between legs._

 _Removing their clothes, they slid under the sheet, flannel blankets and quilt._

 _As the fire died in the living room, another raged in the bedroom._

 _Her breath increased in tempo, puffing against his bare shoulder in short bursts. His hot, unhurried, open-mouthed kisses marked her along her neck and collarbone. His tongue flicked out lower down, finding softer flesh. She gasped as she pulled his soft hair. His hands – those strong, gentle fingers – curved, stroked her, and teased her, along with his mouth. The fire within her built to a crescendo._

 _Her body moved of its own accord. She let go of his hair. Her hands reached behind her, gripping the posts on the headboard._

 _She cried out. Again, then again._

 _Louder._

 _Again._

 _His breath was increasingly erratic, even more so when her pronounced lilt spurred him on, calling his name. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer._

 _He danced into a rhythm with her that was older than the mountains._

 _Slowly. Then, faster._

 _Faster._

 _Faster._

 _She made a sound he had never heard before. It sang to him of desperate longing, of frantic need._

 _Rolling onto his back, he held her steady above him, his hands on the smooth skin of her hips, her soft thighs. She ran her hands down his chest. She touched him low._

 _He threw his head back, an animal sound erupting from his own mouth. Her eyes were wild, her lips parted, watching him move below her. He chanted her name._

 _Sweat glistened on her skin as he kissed her shoulder, then nuzzled her neck. She kissed him deeply, her tongue caressing his._

 _Faster._

 _Again._

 _Faster._

 _His expert touch on her, the rumble of his voice, sent her soaring anew._

 _She gave him her secrets freely. The language she called out had not been spoken by her since her father died._

 _Without understanding the words that fell from her lips, he knew them. He roared with her._

 _Once more. Yes. Deeper._

 _Touch. There._

 _There._

 _Deeper._

 _Yes._

 _More._

 _Yes._

 _More._

 _More._

 _More…_

 _More-_

 _MORE-_

 _YES-_

 _YES._

 _Their mingled voices exclaimed their shared pleasure to the woods outside, over the mountain-top, to the stars above._

 _The bed scraped the floor. It struck the wall. Hard. Harder._

 _Nine times. Ten._

 _More._

 _And more._

 _Again._

 _And again._

 _And again._

 _Slower._

 _Then slower._

 _Slowly._

 _It stopped._

 _The cycle repeated, over and over. The burning embers cooling, then being stirred again. Sparks flying, the fire blazing afresh. Flames rising, roaring. Searching. Faster. Need. The consuming fire touching, licking everything in its path. Then slowly coming down, calming. The roaring becoming a low whisper. The red embers glowing._

 _Gradually, the couple's movements ended; their gasps and shuddering breaths reduced to moments between fiery kisses._

 _She traced his face, her finger down his temple. He smoothed his thumb over her swollen lips. They kissed once more, their heartbeats in tandem._

 _The dawn began to break far away._

 _The cabin was hidden from the early light by the surrounding mountains. Inside, the exhausted lovers slept deeply, entangled in each other's arms, their hunger sated._

 _For one night._

 _It was a new day._


	20. The Winner

The Hyundai Elantra looked out of place when she drove it in town, next to everyone's American cars. She was used to it there. But it _really_ looked out of place the farther she drove along Solomon Creek. She felt as though she were driving back in time.

 _When was the last time you came out here? Fifteen years? Closer to twenty._

Alice passed the long driveway the first time. She had to turn around and find it going the other way, which took more time. By the time she pulled up in front of the cabin, her nerves were shot.

They did not improve when she took in the view.

 _It's not a cabin anymore. It looks like a house._

Gone was the tumbledown shack that she remembered from years before. The frame of the building was still there, but it had been expanded at some point to almost twice its original size. A porch had been added to the front, and the roof was obviously fairly new.

The changes to the inside were even more drastic. The front room was smaller than she remembered, due to two small, additional rooms on her left. One was filled almost entirely with books. The other looked as though it was still under construction, with the floor half-sanded and tools everywhere. On the opposite wall, the outline of a door was stenciled into the drywall.

She went back into the living room. The windows at the front provided natural light, but otherwise it was fairly dark. The old fireplace looked the same. She looked down at the rug, shaking her head ruefully. _That ugly thing._ She didn't like to admit it, but it looked good on the dark hardwood.

On the right was the small galley kitchen, completely renovated. Running water, even a dishwasher. It had been years, she assumed, since he had had to cook over an open fire outside.

The thought made her angry. _Why didn't he tell me more about what he was doing? If I had known it was like this, maybe I would have come out here!_

 _Maybe._

A part of her knew it didn't matter what it looked like. Hardly anything could have persuaded her to stay at the cabin.

 _It's too…him. The him from his boyhood, anyway. Too rustic, too solitary. In love with the woods. Head in the clouds. All of those books…well, there's nothing else to do out here, except play board games or fish._

A small closet housed a stacked washer and dryer. She opened a door on the other side of the kitchen and gasped.

 _He never told me he installed a bathroom! With a tub!_

 _Yes, he did._ _You_ _were convinced it was little better than a Port-A-Potty._

 _It seems you were wrong about that as well. But what did you think? He's been staying here for weeks. Surely he had to shower. And eat. And do laundry, although he could have used Downton for all of that._

 _Apparently not._

She looked through the medicine cabinet, finding everything harmless. So far, there was nothing she could see that was an obvious sign that a woman had influenced the design, or was staying there.

 _Charlie's not an idiot. If he's lavishing gifts on his mistress and lovechild, he won't make it plain to see._

Her attorney had explained that if it could be proven her husband was spending money on someone else, an equal amount would have to be given to her. Doubtless he'd been warned.

Walking into the back of the cabin, light poured through the windows of the bedroom. An old brass bed sat innocently against the wall, flanked by a simple bedside table. Alice snorted.

 _So much for a dirty mattress on the floor._

It wasn't what she would prefer. Their bed at home held a king-size mattress, while this one was only a queen. She went out onto the back porch, looking at the view. She couldn't understand why someone who'd lived his entire life here would find it appealing. Wasn't he tired of trees, mountains, of the creek?

It was quiet.

 _He'll have to make a choice. Either the cabin, or his paramour. Which does he want more?_

 _If he wants the cabin, the divorce will be drawn out. Prolonging the scandal. Their shame._

 _If he wants her, he'll lose a part of himself._

Either way, she won.

But as she viewed the scenery, she clenched her fists, her anger returning. Even when they were young, he had an irrational attachment to this place. Over her…

 _He lay sprawled on the grass, his nose buried in a book. She got up, twirled, hoping he'd notice._

 _He didn't._

" _Do you like my dress?" she asked finally. He looked up._

" _Huh?"_

" _My dress," she repeated, irritated._

" _It's pretty," he smiled briefly before gazing down the hill in the direction of the creek._

 _He wanted to stay longer after their picnic. She refused, insisting he keep his word and take her dancing in Hazard. She never forgot the way his eyes darkened. It was the first time she could remember him being angry with her. Choosing something other than her…_

Going back into the bedroom, she searched through the small wardrobe, finding only Charlie's clothes. She even looked under the bed. She went through the other rooms, checking every nook and cranny for evidence of the affair. Nothing.

Well. If nothing else, once the cabin was hers – and she was certain it would be sooner or later - , she could rent it out to hikers or people looking for a weekend away. It would be nice to get extra income without having to do any of the work herself. She'd hire someone to finish the other room. She laughed, thinking of all the work he'd done. _I'll have to thank him later._

Other than the unfinished room, the only visible thing that needed fixing was that funny dent in the bedroom wall.

She couldn't figure it out.


	21. The Price

The phone rang on her desk. Stretching, she grabbed it, feeling the pinch in her back. _Getting bigger every day._

"The Red Fox, this is Elsie Hughes," she said crisply.

"Els? It's Becky."

"Beck?" Elsie was surprised. After she went to Lexington, they hadn't talked much. And never during the week. "Is something wrong?"

"No…I just thought I'd ring, see how you were doing."

"Oh. Well, I'm fine." There was an awkward pause. "Have you talked to Beryl recently?"

"Yes. She…she told me about Charles."

"Ah." _Now we come to the point._

"Why didn't he just give Alice the cabin? It's not like he can't find somewhere else to live."

"It's not that simple," Elsie leaned on her elbow. In her heart, she agreed with Becky, but she also saw the larger picture. "He offered her the house, which he didn't have to do. And a generous alimony. But she insists on getting the cabin. She's never cared about it, hasn't been there in years-"

"Isn't it more important that he divorce her? That's what he wants, isn't it?" A note of accusation crept into Becky's voice.

"Of course it is," Elsie said, feeling defensive. "But he doesn't want to give her everything. He shouldn't _have_ to."

"Shouldn't he? She didn't ask for the divorce-"

"Whose side are you on?" Her temper flared. "If you called to tell me how awful I am, save your breath."

"Els, I-"

She slammed down the phone, feeling the tears coming. Enduring the local gossip was one thing. But hearing it from Becky was too much.

 _You knew there would be a price to pay._

She hoped it would not be too high.

0000000000000000

 _ **Thirteen months previously**_

 _After they began the affair the previous autumn, both had been racked by guilt. It was compounded by Alice's continued absence, then unintentionally by Beryl. When their friend heard that Charles would be alone on Thanksgiving (John and Anna had invited him, and he had refused), she insisted he come to the Patmore family gathering._

 _Which included Elsie._

 _A day spent trying to avoid each other while simultaneously enjoying the holiday was unbearable. They were both keenly aware that Beryl watched them like a hawk._

 _Then Alice returned, just in time for Christmas._

 _Their affair was interrupted. But while it had lasted, it was torrid._

 _They had talked about what to do. Charles was hesitant to tell Elsie that he wanted to try again with Alice; she already knew. Their mutual guilt and her wanting him to remain honorable meant they parted._

 _For the time being._

 _Elsie did not want to let him go, but she did. It hurt more than she had thought possible. She escaped to Lexington, then to Chicago for the holidays._

 _Charles told himself it was for the best. His vows meant something. He tried once again to talk to Alice, express his frustrations. She blew them off._

 _The first three months of the New Year were hell._

 _Charles lost weight after gaining much of it back. Elsie reverted to her new bad habit of chewing her nails. She managed, barely, to keep her temper in check._

 _Their joint punishment ended when Alice decided to leave again, at the beginning of April. Within days of her leaving, the affair was resumed._

 _Early on a Tuesday morning in May, Elsie woke in Charles's arms._

 _ **We should be ashamed. We should be feeling like…I don't know, like we need to go to confession.**_

 _ **If anyone needs confessing, it's us.**_

 _It wasn't that she didn't feel guilty. She did._

 _It was simply absorbed by overwhelming happiness, of feeling utterly content._

 _He breathed deeply into her hair. "What time is it?" Holding her firmly against his bare chest, he dropped a soft kiss on her shoulder, then her neck. He hoped he had time before he'd have to get up._

" _Mmmmm," she breathed. "Not quite seven." She reached for his watch on the side table. "6:42."_

" _Good," he murmured. "I'm not ready to get up yet."_

 _Rolling over to face him, she smiled. "Why? Did you want to sleep a while longer?"_

 _He smiled back. Without warning, he pulled her onto him, her knees straddling his hips. She gasped. It was one thing to make love in the dark, but in the light of day she felt exposed. Her skin flushed red and she looked down at him, rather shy._

 _He gazed at her like she was the only woman on earth._

 _ **It astounds me how she can be so confident and alluring, and then embarrassed by how she looks.**_

" _Do you have any idea," he whispered, his fingers caressing her cheek, "how divinely beautiful you are? You are not a woman, Elsie. You are a goddess."_

 _She couldn't think of a suitable response to that. So she kissed him on the mouth, holding nothing back. He held nothing back either. If anything, his touches and caresses inflamed her more than the night before. Again and again he brought her to the brink of pleasure without completing it. By the time he finally did, she was nearly weeping with desire. He cried out her name with increasing repetition. His pleasure was evident._

 _He knew he should feel guilty. That he was married to someone else, if increasingly only in name. That he should think about Elsie's reputation. But when she was in his arms, he seemed to lose all reason. As did she._

 _He had never thought of himself as an exceptional lover. Alice, when she wanted him, had always made him feel like he was never quite good enough._

 _Not Elsie._

 _He lay with her in his arms, kissing her slowly. Shaking, she was still coming down from her high. He cupped her face in his hands. "Are you all right, my darling?"_

 _Unable to speak, she nodded, turning her face to kiss his fingers. He drew her down so her head was under his chin. He stroked her back as their breathing returned to normal. They were quiet for several minutes, resting in each other's arms._

 _She felt both powerful and vulnerable: the former, because of his physical reaction to her; the latter because never had a lover drawn out such uninhibited passion from her._

 _It was strange to feel so safe, yet be so frightened at the same time._

 _He suddenly moved, raising up on his elbows. "Sometimes I wonder," he whispered, "why of anyone, you chose me." She still lay across him, her face close to his. "You could have any man you wanted."_

 _She glanced away, her face warm. She had heard similar compliments before, but she had never believed them._

 _But she believed him._

" _I don't want 'any' man," she breathed. "I want you." She slid forward, relishing the feel of skin on skin. They kissed until they were interrupted by a loud rumble. She giggled into his mouth. He sighed._

" _You should have let me get you something to eat," she said, rubbing his shoulder. She slid off of him as he stretched._

" _And let you out of bed? That would defeat the purpose," he said, wagging his eyebrows. He threw the covers back and rummaged in the wardrobe for clean clothes. "I'm going to shower. Please don't feel like you have to get up right away, it's your day off." He grinned and gave her a quick kiss._

 _She sank back into the pillows, enjoying the view of his naked form. Breathing deeply, she smelled his scent and hers on the blankets, the co-mingled fragrance of their lovemaking._

 _A sudden thought floated through her mind, making her heart skip several beats._

 _ **I love him.**_

 _For the first time she felt as though she had something to lose._


	22. The Dream

He didn't have a choice, and he hated that he didn't have a choice.

Well. He did.

But to cling to the cabin at Elsie's expense was not right, nor what either of them wanted.

He waited until he received the report from the private investigator to make his decision. Everywhere Alice had been, the friends she stayed with, everyone was scrutinized.

There was no evidence that she had ever cheated on him. But he lingered on one particular line by the PI: _It seems that attempts were made by her to initiate relationships, but were not successful._

At one time, he would have been indignant. When he was young, he had told Alice multiple times how beautiful she was. At the time he believed it.

In hindsight, she wasn't bad looking. But it was her selfish personality that turned him off. And apparently, other men as well.

Everything was always, and had always been, about her.

He wasn't willing for any more of his life to be spent on her. Even if it meant giving up the cabin.

After speaking with Elsie, he called Mr. Napier and told him he had changed his mind. They prepared the necessary documents and waited for the scheduled meeting.

He hoped Alice would give him some time to clean the place out. And find somewhere else to live. It was a consolation that he would have to find a home not just for himself, but for Elsie and their child.

Ironically, it was when he thought of their unborn child that he felt the loss of the cabin the most. He had dreamed of passing it on, and had indulged fantasies of sleeping on the couch in front of the fire with their son or daughter. Of Elsie pacing the back porch with an infant in her arms.

He told himself he was being silly. Wherever they lived, wherever they could be together, that was home.

Still, he mourned the loss of a dream.

At the meeting, everyone was cordial. Alice pressed her lips together when the offer was presented. He let out a breath when she agreed, that yes, she would accept the offer.

"I'm asking for sixty days to move out," Charles said steadily. "I'll need to find a different place, as well as somewhere to store things temporarily."

"That's fine," Alice said. A small smile played on her lips. "You've done a lot of work at the cabin, Charlie. Thank you."

He glared at her, but restrained himself from making a foolish comment. "Yes, well, it's been a work in progress, as you probably saw." He hated the thought of her being there, but knew there was nothing legally to keep her from it.

"Yes. It looks like only that other spare bedroom needs to be finished?"

He felt a pang of grief, and swallowed. "Yes."

She nodded. "I'll hire someone to finish it. You won't have to bother."

 _But I want to be bothered_. Not that he could say that. "Whatever works best for you," He looked down, struggling to contain his emotions. _That was going to be the baby's room._

"Well, I think we're finished for the day," Mr. Napier said. He stood up and they all followed suit. "After the paperwork is completed, we'll have you come in to sign everything. It shouldn't take longer than three weeks, a month at most."

Charles went to Elsie's apartment after, more for comfort than anything else. She held him a long time, her hands on his back.

"You probably think I'm being stupid, crying about an old cabin," he mumbled, brushing away tears. He smiled. "On the bright side, this means we can finally get married! But you're probably having second thoughts over being stuck with an old curmudgeon like me."

"No," she said, a sparkle in her eyes. "You'll be _my_ curmudgeon, and that makes all the difference." She kissed him on the cheek before taking his hand and placing it on her belly. He gazed at her in wonder.

"Someone's...active."

"Very," she rubbed her belly fondly. "Better he or she be active now, rather than later. Mummy likes to sleep when she can," she linked her fingers through Charles's. He bent over and kissed her bump.

"Be nice to your mother," he rumbled. "She loves you very much. As do I." His heart swelled.

He would miss the cabin, but there were other dreams to look forward to.

00000000000

 _ **Nine months previously**_

 _Beryl puttered nervously around the bar, talking to herself. It was very early on a quiet Monday._

" _What's on your mind?" he asked, eating his breakfast. She looked up sharply._

" _You, of course." She came around the bar and sat next to him on a stool. "You're the talk of the town. I'm sure you knew that by now."_

" _Yes, though I don't know why," he said. He stabbed his fork into the spicy potatoes. She cocked an eyebrow._

" _Don't you?" She sighed. "You're happy, Charlie. Truly happy, for maybe the first time in your life. People notice." She leaned an elbow on the bar. "Mother was right. You're blooming, Mr. Carson."_

 _He looked down at his plate, his ears red. "I don't know what you're talking about."_

 _She snorted. "Oh, yes you do. But unlike most people, I happen to know_ _ **who**_ _has been the cause of your happiness." She paused. "You need to stop, Charlie," she said, her face serious. "You're my best friend, and I love seeing you happy, but you're married. You're married," she repeated at his look, "and unfortunately for you, you're not married to Elsie Hughes."_

 _He gaped at her. "How did you know?" he whispered._

" _I have eyes and ears. And it so happens Elsie's my other best friend. You're blooming, she's glowing. The way you two dance around each other, it's a miracle no one else has figured it out." She held up her hands. "I haven't said a word to anyone." She poked him on the shoulder. "But I do want to know what you hoped to get from breaking your vows. You've held out a long time. Why now? Unless you're planning on serving Alice with divorce papers when she gets back next week, you've been a heartless cad."_

" _No, I'm not," he protested, dropping his fork. "I-look, I know it looks bad. I've tried to talk to Alice, let her know how unhappy I've been. I'll try again when she gets back."_

" _So you'll stop seeing Elsie then?"_

 _He blew out a breath. "I can't do that."_

" _You_ _can't_ _? Charles Ernest Carson! You've just told me that you're sticking with Alice! Bloody hell!" she yelled. "You really_ _have_ _just been using Elsie for sex!" She punched him on the arm. Hard._

" _Ow!" he cried, wincing. "Please, Beryl, it's not like that! I do want to try to keep my marriage vows. I know it sounds mad, but they're important to me. That I keep my word. But-" he shook his head, "I won't stop seeing Elsie. Unless she explicitly tells me to. We…stopped seeing each other earlier this year, before Alice went away again. I can't do that again. I can't be apart from her."_

 _Beryl's face was red, an ominous sign. "You'll have to come up with something better than that. All I'm hearing is a man who has his cake and wants to eat it, too."_

" _I love her," he said abruptly. "I love Elsie." He turned to say something else, what, he didn't know. Instead, he choked up, covering his face with his hands._

 _The chef's mouth dropped open. "Oh Lord. Have you told her?" she whispered finally._

" _No," he mumbled. "I…I don't want to chase her away." He looked at his friend through red eyes, pleading. "I couldn't bear it if I told her and she…didn't."_

" _Crikey, what a mess," Beryl put her hand over her face. "Look, if I were you – well, I would've gotten a divorce years ago, but never mind that. You can't have it both ways. Either you stick with Alice, and stop this nonsense with Elsie, or you divorce Alice and then do as you please. But think about this, Charlie. It's not just your heart at risk, you know."_

" _Isn't it?" he asked. "I know, Elsie's helping you. But she doesn't have to stay here. Not for me."_

" _You daft man," Beryl said softly. "Do you think she's stayed just for me?"_


	23. The Affair

She had won.

And yet it didn't feel like a victory.

Arriving back home, she went into the bedroom. She opened the large drawer at the bottom of the small dresser. The album was still in good condition. She wondered when he had last looked at it, and what he thought then.

 _The Wedding of Charles E. Carson and Alice A. Neale_

How young he looked. And happy.

Tears dripped onto the faded pictures before she closed the book and set it aside. Letting out a sharp cry, she fell sideways onto the bed and wept.

 _The house. Alimony._

 _The cabin._

 _It doesn't matter._

 _I've lost him._

There would never be another like him – who would be so patient, so willing to please her for as long as he did?

 _No one._

While in Los Angeles, she had reached out to a man she worked with. Her confidence had been bolstered to the point that she thought Don might like her _that_ way. A couple of drinks out with him had convinced her to try. The Griggs had been gone for the weekend, providing the perfect opportunity.

It wasn't meant to be serious. She had no intention of leaving Charlie. She just wanted to see if she could attract a man.

She was humiliated when Don declined any further interest. And more so when Tim, a rather awkward colleague, asked her to dinner a few days later.

Oh, she knew she could get attention from _some_ men. But none of the caliber of Charles Carson.

Sitting up on the bed, she pulled strands of hair away that had stuck to her face.

 _Betrayed! I never should have left town, especially after_ _ **she**_ _arrived. I never trusted her. But clearly I miscalculated – I should not have trusted_ _ **him**_ _._

 _You talk of trust?_

 _Yes, why shouldn't I?_ _He_ _cheated,_ _he_ _broke our marriage vows, and_ _he_ _betrayed_ _me_ _._

 _If he knew your secret…_

 _He doesn't, and won't. Anyway, it's irrelevant now._

She regretted bitterly not letting him go to Chicago after graduation. _Even when we were engaged, he could have still gone. Who knows what would have happened._

 _You would have lost him sooner._

 _You don't know that._

She would never know what would have happened. If they had gone another way. If they had had children. She had not been against having them, but had never been particularly keen on them, either. If she had not miscarried…

She would have done the best she could. _But Charlie would have made a good father._

 _He_ _ **will**_ _make a good father._

For everything else, she despised him. She wanted to hate him for the child's sake too, but she couldn't go that far.

0000000000

 _Everything was different._

 _Alice had returned, yet they continued the affair._

 _More and more, they found it unthinkable to stop._

 _She went about her daily routine as if nothing had changed._

 _She was sure Beryl suspected them. At work, she and Charles were friendly, but professional. Still, sometimes he would stare a beat too long, or she would stumble over her words in a meeting, flustered._

 _Then there were the moments he would drop by her office for a quick word, and leave five minutes later surreptitiously tucking his shirt in, his hair disheveled. Or she would wander into the laundry at Downton and return to The Red Fox with sparkling eyes and re-applied lipstick._

 _The holidays actually made the affair easier, since the routines were disrupted. Charles was busy at work as usual, but he began staying even later, making it known he sometimes slept on a cot in his office._

 _He actually did sleep there. Two or three times._

 _The rest were late evenings when he slipped out the back door so the night receptionist didn't see him leave. Driving out of town, onto the dark, curvy roads._

 _A lamp would be burning in the window of the cabin behind the curtains._

 _Sometimes no words would be spoken at all until they reached their pleasure: he, flat on his back, at the mercy of her lovely fingers; she, breathless as his slow kisses teased her._

 _One such night just after the New Year, when the temperature outside was well below freezing, they were wildly engaged in familiar activity. He gasped her name as their rhythm increased. She clung to the brass bedstead, despite the vibrations as it thumped against the wall. The pitch of her voice rose higher as she begged him not to stop._

" _Oh God," she burst out, her body shaking, "I love you, I love you-"_

 _Her vocalizations sent him into the stratosphere. He roared, his efforts sending the bed slamming into the wall once more._

 _The cadence of their dance had slowed, but not stopped, as he kissed her. He felt her nip his tongue. Between kisses as they moved back and forth, he whispered over and over. "I love you, Elsie. I love you." He sat up, bringing her with him so that they were seated facing each other. She touched his face, their bodies still connected._

" _You are wonderful," she breathed, still trembling. "Wonderful." Impossibly, she moved closer. He let out a sound between a sigh and a moan, running his fingers through her untidy hair. She leaned her forehead against his. "I love you, Charles. There is no one, no one but you." She bit back a sob, close to tears._

 _He slid his hands over her shoulders and breasts, down her body, reveling at the sight of her throwing her head back at his touch. His heart felt ready to burst._

 _ **She loves me.**_

 _ **I love her.**_

 _She wept, her head resting on his shoulder. She had grown to love this place, the town, most of all the people here. But he was her center, her heart. She'd been a vagabond most of her life. Moving from place to place._

 _She never wanted to be anywhere else but his arms._

 _A part of her knew how precarious it was, how unlikely it would be for them to be together. She had never risked her heart like this, but somewhere along the line she'd jumped off the cliff._

 _He watched her as she slipped into sleep, running his fingers lightly along her arm._

 _ **What would it be like to live like this? With the woman you love?**_

 _He had always held his honor and his integrity above everything else. But for her, he would be willing to sacrifice anything. Including his marriage._

 _If he took that step, there would be no going back._


	24. The Compromise

**A/N: Oh boy. Things are not easy, not in the main timeline or in the flashbacks. Honestly, I did not like Charles in the flashback. I had to remind myself that it was the flashback...anyway. This is a long chapter, but please tell me what you think. I appreciate all feedback. Thank you!**

Charles sighed, enjoying the warm sunshine. John had invited him over on a quiet Sunday afternoon. To Charles's surprise and delight, he was greeted by a group of friends, toasting his and Elsie's forthcoming marriage and child.

"Another beer?" Bill asked. He held up a dripping, icy bottle. A lazy smile grew on Charles's face.

"Why not? Thanks." John grabbed it from Bill and poured it into a clean glass.

Tom Branson, the new day manager at Downton, laughed. "I had no idea you were so accommodating, Mr. Carson."

"He's not, usually," said Joe Molesley. "Only when his friends are being generous."

Bill slapped Charles on the shoulder. "Save some room for another drink later. Tommy Barrow's in town. He told me he wants to buy you a drink."

"Thomas is here?" Charles looked skyward. "Will wonders never cease? I never thought he'd come back here."

"Phyllis told him about Elsie. He said he'd visit for her sake…and yours." Joe finished his beer. Charles raised his eyebrows.

"I don't think I deserve much praise in regards to him. I only helped him a bit when he was in school. I'm sure he owes Elsie much more."

"Don't sell yourself short," John shook his head. "You were kind to him when not many were, myself included."

"He didn't exactly make it easy for you – or anyone – to be nice to him then. Not even Phyllis."

John half-smiled. "True." He stood up. "Before I forget, let me show you something. Everyone else can stay here, we'll only be a minute." Charles got up and followed him across the yard.

In the garage, he gaped at the mess. "No wonder Anna keeps complaining she can't park in here."

"You're partly responsible for some of this," John said, stepping around a bookshelf, primed for staining. "Remember a couple of years ago when you gave me this?"

"I gave you several things. I thought you and Anna might need them."

"You also said we might need this," John said, lifting a sheet off of another piece of wooden furniture. "But we thought you and Elsie would need it sooner."

Charles bent over, and pushed the rocking horse. It had been refinished and stained a bright cherry red. He swallowed.

"Thank you."

"I doubt Grandmother Pierce would have cared which of us keeps it. We both used it at some point." John grinned.

"Long, _long_ ago." Charles murmured, gazing at the moving horse.

He was beyond grateful to John and Anna. And to their other friends for their support. Anna and Phyllis had spirited Elsie away for the afternoon. He hoped she was having a nice time, whatever they were doing.

Especially since she still hadn't spoken with Becky.

He prayed the sisters would be reconciled. They were family, after all.

0000000000000

 _ **Six months previously**_

" _I was just looking for you. Tom said you'd be in here."_

 _Charles looked up in surprise at John. "What are you doing here?"_

 _John glanced behind him and shut the door to his office. Even though they were alone in the room, he leaned forward and whispered._

" _Anna and I heard some talk in the store this morning."_

 _The hair on Charles's neck went up. "What did you hear?"_

 _John hesitated. "Leroy Drummond and his boys were hiking a couple of weeks ago along Solomon Creek. They saw smoke from the cabin and thought they'd drop by to say hello and warm up. But-" John's ears were red. "Leroy said he heard you inside. With a woman. And he said it couldn't have been Alice, because they'd passed her driving out of town to Hazard an hour earlier."_

 _All of the blood drained out of Charles's face. He slumped back in his chair. John's face went equally white._

" _I told Leroy there must be a mistake. That for all I knew, things were fine with you and Alice." His dark eyes bored into Charles. "Jesus Christ, are you telling me it's_ _true_ _?"_

" _Don't swear," Charles said automatically, his brain running a hundred miles an hour. Leroy Drummond was married to Barbara, a classmate of his and Alice's. The two women often had lunch together._

 _ **I am in serious trouble.**_

 _He bowed his head, pinching his fingers around the bridge of his nose. John put his hands on top of his head, taking deep breaths._

" _Damnit, Charlie! What have you_ _done!_ _? Anna and I waited until my divorce was final with Vera! If I could wait, why couldn't you?"_

 _Charles slumped lower. There was nothing he could say. John sighed heavily._

" _I don't think I have to ask you who was with you that day," John said quietly. "Do I? There's only one person I can think of. And Charlie, please don't misunderstand me. I'm the last person to act the prude. I know how hard it can be to resist the woman you love. If the world was perfect, you'd be married to Elsie, not Alice. But you're not."_

 _Covering his face with his hands, Charles groaned. "It'll be all over town by the end of the day. If not sooner. And you're right," he whispered, looking up at his cousin. "It was Elsie."_

" _You'd better go and find Alice," John said. "She probably knows already, but still." His eyes held nothing but sympathy. "People won't look at you the same way again. If you need somewhere to go, you're welcome anytime at our house."_

" _Thank you," Charles murmured. John left, closing the door behind him._

 _00000000000_

 _ **My God. It's…**_ _ **true**_ _ **.**_

 _ **It's true.**_

 _ **He's been having an affair. He cheated on**_ _ **me**_ _ **.**_

 _Alice sat staring at him across the kitchen table in shock. His downcast eyes and slumped shoulders told her everything she needed to know._

 _ **Oh God, this will be everywhere. People whispering when I come into a room. They'll stop talking when I approach.**_

 _ **How could he do this to**_ _ **me**_ _ **?**_

 _She couldn't stand the thought of being the object of ridicule. Or sympathy. How on earth had she missed the signs?_

" _I'm sorry," he finally broke the silence. "I know that doesn't cover it, but-I'm sorry, Ally. I never meant for this to happen."_

 _He told the truth. She could see that. And somehow it made her angrier._

 _She jumped to her feet and began pacing. Move. Keep moving, keep your anger, then you won't think about Barbara's face when she told you and how you didn't believe her. How you didn't_ _want_ _to believe her._

 _Words, thoughts, fluttered through her mind like wisps of cloud. She couldn't grasp anything._

" _I should have said something long ago," he said softly. She jerked, but continued her agitated walking. "I-I've been unhappy. I felt you weren't listening, so I stopped trying to talk to you. We can't go on the way we've been living. I needed to be more open, I know." He closed his eyes, pain evident on his face. "But I don't know that there is a way forward for you and I. Not now. Things change, people change. If you hadn't left so often-"_

 _Something snapped inside her._

" _Are you saying this is_ _ **my**_ _fault, Charlie? Because I'm not the one who had an affair! I've never,_ _never_ _cheated on you! You know why I have to go sometimes, we've talked about it-"_

" _Really?" he asked, his voice loud. "When have we ever talked about why you leave for months on end? It's always been the same – you tell me you're leaving, and you tell me when you're coming back. That's it. That's not a conversation," he growled. "I'm not saying I'm not at fault. I take full responsibility for what I've done. But if you could just listen to me-"_

" _Why should I listen to you?" she shouted, losing control. "You're a liar! You said this has been going on for months! No," she cried, stopping short and pointing at him. "You're wrong. Everything was fine before, not perfect, but we had a life together. We understood each other. If you weren't so damned stubborn-"_

 _His jaw dropped. They started shouting over each other._

" _Stubborn!? About what? I've never forced you to stay here when you were unhappy, I've given you everything-"_

" _-We could have been happier, but no, you had to have your way like a sulky child, hiding away in your precious cabin-"_

" _-whatever you wanted, I did my best to give it to you but it was never enough! Never! You've never seen me as your husband, sometimes I wonder if you even see me as human at all, instead of some prop to take with you when it suits you-"_

" _-and this is how you repay me, after all of our years together! You sleep with someone else, it's disgusting! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Everyone in town knowing, people laughing behind my back-"_

" _-and now I know how it feels to have someone love me, for once! Someone who doesn't take me for granted-"_

 _For the first time, she heard what he was saying._

" _What did you say?" she hissed. He stopped, glaring at her._

" _It's different now. Maybe if you had been willing to listen, we might have been able to work things out, but I'm not sure I want that."_

 _She reeled, clutching the back of a chair. Don't think, she told herself. Don't think about what he said._

 _ **Oh my God, I can't lose him.**_

" _What are you saying? You want a divorce?" she whispered. He pressed his lips together, his face sad._

" _I'm thinking about it, honestly."_

" _No," she muttered, sinking into the chair. "I don't want that._ _Anything_ _but that."_

 _She wasn't sure if she even meant it. She just knew she couldn't lose him._

 _He sat down slowly. "Do you mean that? Really mean it?" he asked pointedly. He looked down at the table, drumming his fingers. "I'm willing to give this one more chance. But only if you're serious."_

" _Of course I am," she said with all the sincerity she could give._ _ **I can't lose him.**_ _"We've been together our whole lives, I don't take that lightly. And neither do you," she reminded him. "You've always been honorable, been serious about your vows." She glanced at him, a question burning on her lips. He was staring off into space. "Who is it? Who have you – been with?" Her stomach flipped just asking him._

 _Part of her didn't want to know, but another side of her did._ _ **I can live with whoever he's been with. Even if it's a long-time friend. Someone we've known all of our lives.**_

 _ **Someone from here.**_

 _ **Just as long as it's not**_ _ **her**_ _ **. Anyone but her. Please, God.**_

 _He folded his hands. "I'll only tell you if you promise not to tell anyone."_

" _Why would I tell anyone?" she asked, confused. He raised his eyebrows._

" _I wouldn't put it past you to ruin someone's reputation."_

 _She snorted. "She's had sex with my husband. I'm humiliated enough without bothering about_ _ **her**_ _reputation. Anyway, I think I have a right to know, Charlie."_

 _He took a deep breath, rotating his thumbs. "It's Elsie Hughes."_

 _Her stomach boiled. She put a hand to her mouth, hoping she wouldn't vomit. "Oh. Okay." She nodded and quickly changed the subject. "Look, I meant what I said before. I'm serious, I'll do whatever it takes to fix this. Just as long as you promise you won't see her alone again. Not at Downton, not anywhere. If I'm willing to change, then you have to be as well. Or it won't work."_

 _He opened his mouth, flexing his fingers. "I…I'll have to see her once more. Just once. To explain," he said. He tried to ignore the screaming of his heart._ _ **Alice is right about the vows. One more chance.**_

 _ **I don't know how I'm going to tell Elsie, but I'll have to.**_

 _ **Somehow.**_

" _All right," she said reluctantly. "If you don't mind, I'm going to lie down." He nodded._

 _She went to the bedroom._

 _ **I hate her. I HATE her. I've never been able to put her out of my mind.**_

 _ **Apparently, neither has he.**_

 _ **Bastard.**_

 _Her head throbbed. She felt like she wanted to explode, but her mother's voice rang in her ears._

' _Don't get mad, get even,' Mother said._

 _ **Well. I won't lose him. I won't.**_

 _ **If I didn't want to keep some self-respect, I'd make sure everyone knew. Then**_ _ **she'd**_ _ **have to live with it.**_

 _ **I'll bet it's not true, what he said. That she loves him. She probably tells that to every man she sleeps with.**_

 _But somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn't help wondering if it were true. And if he loved her._


	25. The Reconciliation

**A/N: I haven't forgotten about the cabin. Unfinished business there. But this begged to be written - the holidays always make me think about family, no matter if yours are blood-related or not. Let me know what you think! I'll update as soon as I can.**

The sunroom in Phyllis and Joe's house was a place often used for gatherings. Elsie had been delighted to have a chance to relax with her friends, all the more so when she saw Thomas Barrow.

He didn't often come back. When they had first met each other seven years previously, he had been bound and determined never to return to his birthplace. There was nothing for him there, he insisted. Too many painful memories. But over time, she had gently encouraged him to maintain ties with those who did care for him.

"One thing's for certain," he said, his hand on Elsie's belly. "Little mister or miss will give me another reason to return to the auld sod."

Elsie put her hand over Thomas's. "Whatever the reason, I can't tell you how good it is to see you. I know it's not easy for you to come back here." She felt a lump in her throat. _His family rejected him, as did most of the community._

 _Now_ _ **I**_ _know what that feels like._

"Now, now," he said, grinning. "No tears, unless they're tears of laughter. You promised," he said, pretending to pout. She laughed.

"That's better." He took his hand off of her belly and kissed her on the cheek. "For you, it's worth it. And to see Phil, of course. And Anna. Even Joe…I never would have graduated if he hadn't tutored me. I saw Mr. Mason in the IGA, he was always nice to me. Except when I was rotten to William, of course. Can't blame him for that."

"There _are_ people here who care about you," Elsie said softly. He nodded solemnly before another smile appeared.

"Who would have thought when we met that _you'd_ end up here!? I'd just started at the Art Institute in San Francisco, and met you while applying for a part-time job at the Fairmont. Biggest shock of my life when you said you knew where I was from!"

Elsie squeezed his hand. "I traveled so much then. I'd only been here a couple of times, but it left an impression on me."

He shook his head. "Some _one_ had an impression on you," he said, grinning wider when she blushed. "Anyone can see it. And from what Anna and Phil have said, he feels the same way."

"Elsie?" Phyllis stood in the doorway looking tense. "Um, someone's here to see you." Beryl appeared next to Phyllis.

"I promise, I didn't know she was coming." She moved, and Becky stepped into the room apprehensively.

"Hello, Els."

000000000000000

Thomas disappeared into the kitchen with the others, giving Becky a steady glare. Elsie could hear quiet chatter from the other room. Becky sat down next to her, saying nothing.

 _I've got to say something, or we'll just sit here._

"I'm surprised to see you. I thought Jason had a tournament this weekend," she said. Her sister nodded.

"He did. They won one game, but lost the other. If they'd won, they would have been playing today as well." She tugged on her t-shirt nervously. "We were only a couple of hours from here, and…I wanted to see you."

"Adam's here? And the children?" Elsie asked, her eyebrows raised.

"The kids are at Kate's. Adam's gone to John's house. Daisy told us where to find you both," Becky held up her hand at Elsie's expression. "Adam's not going to shout at Charles. I promise."

Elsie couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice. "And what about you? I thought…you didn't approve of me, of us," she said. "That we're a bad influence." _I know_ _ **you**_ _don't approve._

Becky fidgeted in her chair. "No. I mean, I was disappointed, and angry," she replied, looking at her sister. "But I wanted to talk to you. I was afraid if I rang, you'd just hang up on me."

"It depends on what you have to say," Elsie picked at a hangnail. "I don't need a lecture on my behavior, or you questioning Charles's motives." She sighed. "I know what I-what _we_ did was wrong. It was never something we planned. None of it," she rubbed her hand over her belly. "But what's done is done."

"Including, so I hear, Charles's divorce," Becky said.

"After next week. Mr. Napier will have the papers for him to sign by Friday. That should make you happy." _Why do I sound so rude?_

"It does, but not for some stupid reason. I know what you're thinking," Becky was calm, but firm. "I know I sounded judgmental the last time we spoke. But it wasn't-it's never been about how the situation looks, no matter what I said. I was worried about _you_ , Els. You're my sister, and I love you."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

Becky leaned forward on the wooden table. "I wanted to _protect_ you, and when Beryl said Charles wasn't giving up the cabin, it made me think he wasn't going to go through with the divorce. What was I supposed to think?" She ran a hand through her hair. Over her left ear, Elsie noticed several greys that she had never seen before. "It felt like my worst fears would be confirmed – that he was only using you."

Elsie's temper flared. "He _never_ -"

"Let me finish!" Becky snapped, before taking a deep breath. "I know now that it's not like that. I just – wanted him to do right by you." A gleam appeared in her dark blue eyes. "Because _heaven help him_ if he didn't. Adam said the same. He loves you too, you know. He point-blank said if Charles didn't get a divorce, he would drive down here and beat him senseless. And then I'd pick up his rotten carcass and give him another beating."

Elsie's heart swelled at the thought that Adam and her sister wanted to protect her. _You've never been alone._

"Beryl know him as well as she knows you. Better," Becky continued. "She said Charles is madly in love with you, and would do anything for you. But I know you, Els. I-I've never seen you this happy. Ever." She looked down at her hands. "Da would be so glad. And for what it's worth, I am too. I hope you believe me."

"I do," Elsie whispered. Shame welled in her. _And I thought she only saw me as a homewrecker, someone immoral._ "I'm sorry I didn't give you the chance to tell me what you thought." Her voice wobbled. "I thought you were just going to criticize me again."

"No," whispered Becky. She slid her hand along the table and held Elsie's. "You don't need me to do that. Like you said – it's done." She looked down shyly. "If you want, we – Adam and I and all of us – we want to be part of your life like you've always been a part of ours. And that includes Charles and your baby. When you get married, we want to be there. If you'll have us."

The tears would not hold back any longer. "Oh Becky, lass," Elsie whispered, her shoulders shaking. "I would love that." They embraced for a long time.

The rest of the afternoon flew by. There was so much to talk about – Becky raving over how beautiful Elsie looked (Thomas lightened up considerably after she said that); the sisters exchanging pregnancy stories; Beryl, Becky and Thomas discussing moving logistics while Anna and Phyllis asked about wedding plans.

Elsie did shed tears of laughter when Becky told her of her nephews and nieces' reaction to her news. Brandon had been embarrassed into silence, appalled that his Aunt Elsie had actually had _sex_ , while Jason got over his discomfort by asking about Charles's love of fishing. Emily and Liza were over the moon about having a cousin.

That night, Elsie slept better than she had in weeks. Even with the bairn doing somersaults.


	26. The Letter

The sun had returned, the mountains flowered. The path was open.

By the end of the week, the divorce would be final. He would be free.

Free to marry Elsie. They would begin their life together, and then welcome the new life that had already claimed their hearts.

He was nervous, then overjoyed, when Adam arrived at John's house. Later, he and Elsie went to Kate's house to see her- _their_ nieces and nephews. He was surprised when Liza hugged him, the little scamp. He liked her immediately. Brandon and Jason were more hesitant, but perked up when he offered to take them hunting in the fall.

The sight of Emily beaming, her hand on Elsie's belly, nearly made him cry. He was only saved by a friendly nudge from Becky.

 _We have a family now. All of us together._

He woke the following morning at the cabin, relishing the sights and sounds of the woods in summer. Driving into work, he shook off the sadness of losing the treasured place.

He had barely started working, doing the morning rounds, when Tom Branson came running around the corner, calling for him.

"Mrs. Patmore's called the front desk. She's at home, says you need to come over," the young man said. "She said it's urgent."

Worried, Charles switched directions in the hallway. He went to the front desk. Tom picked up the phone and took it off hold, handing it to Charles.

"Beryl? What's the matter?"

"I-I can't tell you over the phone, Charlie. Just get over here as soon as you can." She sounded mostly herself, just tense.

"Do I need to do anything? Tell Elsie?"

"No, don't tell Elsie anything. Yet. Oh," she said, having a muffled conversation with someone, "you'd better call Mr. Napier. I've got something that will change things."

00000000000

To his surprise, Thomas Barrow opened the door.

"Good morning. I thought you'd have left already."

"I switched my flight to tomorrow," Thomas said, ushering him into a back bedroom. Beryl sat on the floor, surrounded by a colossal mess of boxes, odds and ends, and papers.

"Since you needed to store some of your possessions here, I found I needed to organize _my_ things. To make room," she explained at his expression. "I haven't gone through a lot of stuff since before Dad passed away, and none of it since Mother. Thomas has been helping me while he's here."

"That's kind of you," Charles nodded at the young man. He turned back to his friend. "Now what's this all about?" Thomas left the room.

Beryl reached into an open box. Pulling out an old commencement program, she handed it to him. "I found this and some other things, buried. I'd forgotten I had them."

He fingered the yellowed material. "You came to our graduation from the university. I remember that."

"Alice wrote to me before your graduation. But the letter didn't arrive until after I'd gone with your parents." She handed it to him, the folded paper still in the envelope. It had been opened. "When we all returned home, Alice told me that the letter wasn't important, that I could throw it away." She sighed. "She made it sound like she had written to tell me of your engagement and about the baby, but I already knew about both, so there was no point in reading it. So I didn't. I meant to," she said, standing up, "but I just plain forgot about it. Until this morning, when I found it under your graduation program at the bottom of the box."

"Funny how much cheaper stamps were three decades ago," he said, running his finger over the postal stamp, the date from the past. Beryl looked down, wringing her hands.

"If I hadn't been so bloody absent-minded…it feels like my fault. Well, I can't change what happened. You go ahead and read that," she tapped the letter. "Did you call Mr. Napier?"

"Yes," he frowned. "But he said to see what you had for me. He said he'd be glad to deal with any potential changes, but not while I was being vague."

"I'll leave you to it then," Beryl headed for the door. She looked back at him before shutting it. "If I were you, I'd sit down before I read it." She closed the door before leaving him alone.

He sat down and pulled the letter out of the envelope.

00000000000

 _Dear B,_

 _I'm sure you've heard the news by now. About our engagement. And about the baby._

 _You're scandalized, I'm sure. I was surprised by Mother and Daddy's reaction. After the initial shock, they were delighted. Mother's already hoping we have a daughter. Daddy wants us to have a quick wedding, of course, but he's excited to have a grandchild._

 _Their reaction would have been easier to take if they were angry with me._

 _I know you and I haven't always been close friends, but I know I can be honest with you._

 _B, I've done something terrible. Charlie asked me to marry him because I told him I was pregnant. But I'm not. I lied._

 _I didn't know what to do. He wanted to go to Chicago to audition. I can't do it. I'm not good enough, and I know I'd miss my parents, you, our old friends. Charlie said we could be on our own, live a little. But I couldn't bear being away. I just wouldn't feel comfortable living anywhere but home._

 _Now I've got a real problem. I guess I could always tell him I'd lost the baby. But I'm worried about_ _after_ _we get married. If I get pregnant for real too soon, he'll know I lied._

 _I'm sure you'll say I should tell him the truth. But I can't. I'd lose him. I've never lost anything I really wanted before._

 _After graduation, when we get home, we'll have to talk. I know you won't tell anyone._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Alice_


	27. The Towering Rage

**A/N: So…this went in a different direction than I thought it would. If you haven't read the previous chapter, please read it first! I posted it less than twenty-four hours ago.**

 **Warning for language – I don't want this fic to become M.**

Five words.

" _But I'm not. I lied."_

Round and round they tumbled in his brain.

She lied to him. His wife, Alice, lied.

They got married when he thought she was carrying their child. And she wasn't.

He felt sick.

"Charlie?" The door creaked open.

 _If she asks if I'm all right, I will explode._

Beryl stepped behind him where he was still seated on the floor. She reached down and put a hand in his hair. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

He closed his eyes at his friend's touch. For a few seconds, he was furious with her ( _why did she forget about the letter, thirty years of my life gone to waste_ ) before he came to his senses.

There was only one person to blame. And it wasn't his oldest friend.

She rubbed his head, a gesture he found rather comforting. But she couldn't soothe away the hurt.

"We were worried about you," she said. He suddenly remembered Thomas. "It's been almost an hour."

Odd. It felt like she'd only closed the door five minutes ago.

He wanted to speak, but could not seem to find the words. Until he thought of his mother. _You've only got one life, son._

 _I'm glad she can't see me now._

All at once, his chest heaved, and he broke down and sobbed. Beryl put a hand on his shoulder. He leaned against her solid presence.

"Why?" he whimpered. "Oh God, _why_ would she do that? It's my _life_ -" he choked, wiping his face with his hand, "-my LIFE! I've been a damned idiot! And she didn't want to tell me because she thought she'd _lose me_!? WELL, SHE LOST ME A LONG TIME AGO! THAT _BITCH_!"

He screamed, jumping to his feet. Thomas raced into the room, his face pale and his eyes wide. Grabbing Beryl, he moved her slightly behind him. They could only watch.

"-A GODDAMN LIAR, SHE'S NEVER GIVEN A DAMN ABOUT ME, I WASTED MY LIFE FOR _HER_ , THAT _F_ -"

Beryl was certain she'd never seen Charles in such a towering rage. Thomas visibly flinched.

He scared them.

Pacing wildly, he didn't seem to notice. "-LIED ABOUT EVERYTHING, OUR WHOLE MARRIAGE WAS A TOTAL SHAM-"

"Should I do something?" Thomas half-whispered.

"There's nothing we _can_ do," Beryl muttered. "Just wait it out."

But Charles's wrath seemed to be intensifying. He paced back and forth, waving his arms. Then he bent down and picked up an old commemorative plate, something that had been given to Ruby. He hurled it against the opposite wall.

It shattered instantly.

Neither of the two witnesses could see an opening to try and calm him. Beryl managed to grab the letter and envelope before she fled out the door, Thomas right behind her.

"I'm calling Mr. Napier," Beryl said as they ran to the kitchen. " _This_ -" she held the offending paper between her finger and thumb, "is proof that Charlie's marriage is void. His attorney will need to know."

Ten minutes later, she hung up the phone with a sigh. "Well. He wants to see Charlie tomorrow, first thing."

"He's still…angry." Thomas raked a hand through his black hair. They heard something heavy thud against the wall. "What the _hell_? He's raging like a hurricane! This could go on for days!"

"I doubt it," Beryl winced as more epithets came screaming down the hallway. "But he's got thirty years of fury to vent." She let out a small chuckle. "At least he'll rid me of unwanted items in the process."

"I'm going to call John Bates," Thomas said resolutely, picking up the phone. "He'll calm him down, plus he'll have the best chance of surviving if Mr. Carson snaps and hits him."

"John isn't who Charlie needs right now. Or his attorney," Beryl murmured, half to herself. She looked up at the wall, at her favorite picture of The Red Fox. She stepped around the table. Thomas gaped at her.

"No. _No._ No, no, no, _no_ , NO. Bloody hell, NO!" he shouted. He held the phone away from her as she reached for it. "Have you lost your _mind_!? You can't call Elsie! She's seven months pregnant, for God's sake!"

"You know I'm right," Beryl said softly. "She's the only person who can calm him down. If I can't-"

"I won't let you," Thomas said, his lips pressed in a thin line. "You were right earlier, we just need to wait. Or I-I'll go in there myself, try to reason with him." Beryl snorted. She grabbed for the phone again.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're a brave lad, but Charlie would regret it if he hurt himself, or someone else. Even you."

"All the more if he hurt Elsie. Or the baby!"

"He won't," Beryl succeeded in wrenching the phone from his hand. She turned away from Thomas as she dialed.

She hoped she was right.

000000000000

Elsie stumbled up the sidewalk to Beryl's front door. She was simply going to go in, but she stopped when she was several feet away.

 _Oh God, what_ _happened_ _?_

She had never heard him say, much less scream, half of the words she could clearly hear outside. Beryl had told her he was extremely upset, but declined to give her more details.

" _Upset"? That's like saying Cain was upset when he murdered Abel._

Beryl ushered her into the kitchen. Thomas leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. They explained the situation quickly, then Elsie read the letter.

For several moments, _she_ wanted to fly into a rage. But her child chose that precise moment to give her a kick, which brought her back to reality.

She had to be strong for him.

"I'll go in front of you," Thomas said, seeing her touch her belly. "If he throws something, it'll hit me and not you."

Elsie nodded, tight-lipped. "How long has he-has he been like this?" Beryl looked at the clock.

"He's been using every curse word in the English language for over an hour and a half," she said.

" _What!?_ I need to see him! _Now_ ," Elsie's heart constricted. "He might hurt himself-have a heart attack or something-"

Thomas saw her anguish and grabbed her hand. He lead her to the back bedroom, hesitated for a fraction of a second, and opened the door a few inches.

"GET _OUT! GET THE F-_ "

Thomas took a deep breath and shoved the door with his shoulder.

"There's someone to see you, Mr. Carson."

She stared over Thomas's shoulder at him. He froze.

His face was red with anger, and with exertion. His chest rose and fell with every breath. There was a long scratch along the side of his face that bled, as if he'd scraped it with his fingernails. A small chunk of hair was missing above his ear. But it was the pain in his eyes that ripped her defenses down. Sadness, rage, betrayal, regret, loss.

Her heart broke, and tears came to her eyes.

"Oh, Charles," she whispered.

She gently pushed Thomas to one side. She held her lover's gaze for one beat. Then two.

His chin quivered.

With a sigh, he fell to his knees. She dashed forward and caught him, swaying slightly with the weight of him against her thickened waist. She kissed the top of his head.

Thomas closed the door quietly behind them.

 **TBC. Please don't kill me.**


	28. The Right Woman

**A/N: Once again, if you haven't read the previous two chapters, please do. I hate to get anyone's hopes up, but I will not be able to update this story this quickly all the time. This section rather called for it.**

He was lost in a haze of rage. Then Thomas appeared at the door. He screamed at the young man, something awful.

Then he saw her.

And everything stopped.

Her soft eyes bored through his. At the sound of his name on her lips, he felt himself tremble.

His mind cleared.

Pain, terrible pain, and anger still flowed through him. But the wild beast was gone.

He suddenly felt tired. She caught him when he pitched forward, holding him steady.

 _She always steadies me._

He clung to her as she held him. She kissed his head, murmuring wordlessly. Comforting. He wept again, soaking the front of her blouse. When he looked up, she smiled at him, even though her own face was tear-streaked. She bent over as far as their child would allow, and kissed him on the mouth.

Lingering, he held her tighter. His lips traveled from hers down to her jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to the hollow between her heavy breasts, over her blouse. Her breath caught, but she didn't pull away.

He tried to say without words what he felt.

 _You are my true mate. You have never lied to me. I trust you with my life._

 _You_ _ **are**_ _my life._

"Charles…" she breathed, leaning back slightly. His hands slid from her hips, toying with the bottom of her skirt. "We can't…Beryl and Thomas are in the next room."

Sighing, he got to his feet, his knees cracking. "Ouch," he mumbled. He blinked at the devastation around him. "Oh God…did I do this?"

"Yes," she said softly, holding his hand. "But don't worry about it now. Let's go to the kitchen and talk." She frowned, reaching up to touch his face. "Love, you're bleeding."

He hadn't noticed. They went back into the kitchen, where Beryl was pottering around with dishes. Thomas stood up immediately when they walked in. "Mr. Carson, I-"

"Please, let me apologize," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry I shouted at you. I had no right to do so. My anger was misdirected. And Beryl," he turned to his friend, "I am… _so_ sorry I reacted the way I did." His shoulders slumped while Elsie gently stroked his back. "I…I'm afraid I destroyed some of your possessions. Whatever the cost, please let me repay you. Will you forgive me?"

She had her hands on her hips, but her expression was soft. "Of course, Charlie. I'll look through the room later, but don't worry about anything that's broken. Most of it I haven't looked at in over ten years." She patted him on the arm.

"Thank you," he said in relief. He held out his hand to Thomas. "Could I have your forgiveness as well? Of anyone who _shouldn't_ be screamed at, it's you. I'm afraid I scared you." He watched the younger man, worry in his eyes.

Thomas flushed pink. "Of-of course I forgive you," he stammered, shaking Charles's hand. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, I know you didn't mean it." His eyebrows knitted together. "Did you know you're bleeding?"

"I'll take of it," Elsie said, running warm water in the sink over a clean cloth. She tapped Charles's shoulder. "Sit down."

He obeyed, and she pressed the cloth against his face. "Ow!" he sucked in a breath. "That stings!"

"Hush," Elsie gently wiped the scrape. Thomas and Beryl chuckled quietly. Beryl shook her head.

"I would never have wanted things to happen the way they did, Charlie," she said, her voice low. "I'm sure you don't, either. But one thing's for sure – you've got the _right_ woman with you now."

She was glad to see him smile, his eyes twinkling. "That I do," he said, taking Elsie's free hand and kissing it.

00000000000

"I have good news and bad news." Mr. Napier folded his hands. Charles and Elsie glanced at each other. Charles took a deep breath.

"Let's have the bad news first. It can only get better after that."

Nodding, Mr. Napier shuffled the papers in front of him. "I quite agree." He sighed. "As you know, the letter changes the divorce proceedings considerably. So I'm sorry to tell you, Charles, that you won't be free to marry Elsie for a little while longer."

"How much longer?" Charles asked, almost before the sentence was out of the attorney's mouth.

"Well, I assume you'll want to move as quickly as possible on this. By the end of the day today, I'll draw up a declaration of invalidity on your marriage, due to fraud, and have it filed with the court tomorrow. With the evidence available, we should get the decree declaring your marriage invalid by next week."

"Next _week_?" Elsie let out the breath she'd been holding. Charles slumped in his chair.

"We thought it'd be weeks, or months," he said, leaning on the desk. "You're _sure_?"

"Positive," Mr. Napier said. "It's just under the original conditions, everything would have been finalized by the end of this week."

"I think we'll take next week," Charles said, putting an arm around his fiancée. Elsie dabbed at her eyes, laughing.

"Mr. Napier, if that's your bad news, I'd love to hear your _good_ news."

"Ah," the dour attorney cracked a rare smile. "Well, invalidity of a marriage is legally different from a divorce. After the decree is given, Charles's marriage will be void. In plain language, it will be as if it never happened. What that means for the two of you is that the divorce agreement doesn't exist either." He looked pointedly at Charles. "Alice is entitled to nothing from you, if you wish. The house on Chestnut Street, any alimony payment, or-"

"The cabin," Charles finished. His heart skipped several beats; he felt as if he'd been released from under a great weight. Elsie gasped aloud, clapping her hands over her mouth.

"Your home," she whispered, feeling tears coming again. "Oh Charles, it belonged to your grandfather, then your father. I'm so glad for your sake!"

He laughed and leaned over, kissing her on the cheek. "It will be _your_ home as well. _Our_ home. Unless you'd rather have a place in town. Closer to work. It'd be more convenient," he kept his voice serious, but his eyes danced. "Are you sure you want to live in a cabin in the woods?"

Elsie opened her mouth to give him a retort, but laughed instead. She took his hand and put it on her belly. The two of them smiled at each other.

Mr. Napier raised an eyebrow. "I take it that's three votes for the cabin?"

 **A/N: Thomas has a backstory in this fic that could probably make its own story. Also, I have no idea how quickly a decree declaring a marriage invalid could be granted by the court. I just made that up. And I wanted to give an attorney some kudos; they're not all incompetent like Murray.**


	29. The Goodbye

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews!**

He was almost out the door of his office when the phone rang.

"Charles Carson, the Downton Hotel."

"Oh good, I caught you," Elsie said quickly. "I just wanted to let you know how the day's gone. I dropped off my keys with Mr. Blake, and William and Adam moved my things out of the apartment with no trouble. Adam had to leave a little while ago, he said to tell you hello. William's rearranging some furniture here, and I'm starting to unpack." She paused. "Good luck."

"Thanks," he replied, jingling his keys in his pocket. "I'm glad the move went well. I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you."

"I love you, too." They both hung up, and he left.

When he pulled into the driveway, he thought of how ironic it was that there was a moving truck there as well as at the cabin. But the difference was stark. At the house, the occupant was leaving, while the cabin welcomed another arrival.

He sat in the car for a few moments. He still questioned whether or not he should talk to Alice face to face. Surely it would be easier to let their attorneys communicate.

 _No. You_ _ **need**_ _to speak with her. At least ask her the question._

 _Even if she doesn't give you an answer, you at least tried to get one._

Taking deep breaths, he got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk and across the porch.

He knocked on the front door. About a minute later, she opened it.

"Can we talk for a few minutes?"

Wordlessly, she held the door open. He went inside.

000000000

 _ **Five months previously**_

 _Elsie sat in shock on the couch. Charles watched her for any sign of response. But she seemed unable to speak._

 _He didn't blame her._

 _Her mind whirled, and the room almost seemed to spin. She put out a hand, steadying herself. With the other, she covered her mouth. Disbelief and despair combined to make her nauseated._

 _She hoped she didn't get sick on the rug. But it would feel better than the tempest raging inside her._

" _I don't understand," she said low, praying her voice didn't break. "You say you don't feel for Alice what you feel for me, yet you're going back to her?_ _Again_ _?" He flinched._

" _I know it doesn't make sense," he whispered. "But I want to try. One more time. And I still care about Ally, she didn't ask for this-"_

" _Then she should not have left you. Again!" She yanked a hand through her hair._

" _I know, but-"_

" _Why do you still defend her?" Her voice rose. "She has left you how many times? At least five times since you married, and it isn't as though she just leaves for the weekend. Months and months she's gone, and you_ _ **still**_ _welcome her back!"_

" _She's my wife," he said gravely. "I made a vow-"_

" _What about her? What about the vows_ _ **she**_ _made? She doesn't deserve you!"_

" _Maybe not," he said, his heart cracking within him, "But she deserves someone who honors his promises." **Or who tries to keep them after he's broken them.**_

" _And I don't?" she asked, her voice wavering. He could see the beginning of tears in her eyes. "You said you loved me, Charles. Was that a lie?" Her voice broke on the last word._

" _No!" he cried. He balled his hand into a fist, slamming it into his other palm. "I love you. You have been everything to me. You_ _are_ _everything." He put a hand over his face._

" _But you will still go back to her. What am I supposed to do then?" she couldn't stop from asking, the hurt coursing through her. She wiped at her tears in vain. "I love you, too. I can't forget that."_

 _He sat on the floor with a heavy thud. "I'm not asking you to," he choked out. "But we-we can't be together, Elsie. Not like this." He shook his head. "Not like this."_

 _She grabbed fistfuls of her hair, a shaking gasp escaping from her lips. She knew he was right. A part of her even agreed with his keeping his vows no matter what. He was an honorable man, and she loved him for it._

 _But her heart, oh, her heart was broken. Inside, she screamed in protest._

 _He crawled across the floor and reached for her hands. She took them, more to feel steady than anything else. To know that he was there._

 _It was beyond difficult to know what she wanted. She wanted him to be at peace, to somehow keep his vows, retain his honor._

 _But that would be at the cost of her own happiness._

 _She could do nothing but cry._

 _He led her into the bedroom where they climbed under the sheet and old quilt fully clothed. He held her close against him, his warmth comforting against her back. Whispering apologies, his tears dampened her hair._

 _She wanted to hate him for doing this, for leaving her. But she couldn't._

 _ **How am I going to go on without him?**_

 _Her body was racked with sobs. It only increased his guilt, knowing what he was doing to her._

 _ **You've been nothing but selfish. Having your cake and eating it, too. You deserve all the pain you're feeling.**_

 _ **But she doesn't. She didn't ask for this, either.**_

 _She cried herself to sleep. He wished he was able to sleep – but then again, he wouldn't be able to hold her, touch her, and whisper how much he loved her._

 _ **I hope it's worth it, going back to Alice.**_

 _Eventually, he had to wake her. To take her home. He nearly cried again when she was in the bathroom, thinking of how much the cabin had felt like home when she was there. How it had become their home._

 _They kissed for the last time in front of the door. He tried to savor every contour of her face, the touch of her lips on his._

 _In his truck, her stomach flipped when she noticed his hand on the steering wheel. He had put his wedding ring back on. He saw her looking, and they shared a guilt-ridden glance._

 _When she stumbled into her apartment, she felt empty. Drained. As if their affair had been a real fire, and there was nothing left but cold ashes. She vomited into the toilet, resting her face against the cold porcelain._

 _She would always love him._

 _He was grateful Alice was not at the house when he got there. He splashed water on his face, but gave up trying to fight his grief any more. He sat with his back against the closed bathroom door and cried like he had at his father's funeral._

 _He would never stop loving her._


	30. The Truth

**A/N: This turned into a rather monster of a conversation. Then again, it was long overdue. Sorry to disappoint anyone who wanted a knock-down, drag-out fight. Please review and tell me what you think, I appreciate your feedback!**

The living room was almost empty, except for the heavy entertainment center. Alice leaned awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen, a hand clutching her arm.

He noticed she still wore her wedding ring. _That's her choice._

"Um, can I get you something? Some water?" He was a little surprised at her politeness.

"No, thank you. Do you mind if we sit somewhere? If we can?"

"In here," she pointed in the kitchen. The table was gone, but there were a couple of spare chairs left. They sat down. The room was very quiet except for the sound of a mosquito buzzing somewhere near the ceiling.

"The place looks different without furniture. Bigger," he said, mostly just to break the silence.

"Yes," she agreed. She looked down at her lap. "What is it you wanted to talk about?" Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "I'm not sure there's anything left _to_ say."

He pressed his fingers together, trying to think of how to begin. _Best be direct. You don't want to dance around it._

"I think you know what I want to say," he said slowly. "The fact that you're moving out means your attorney has told you of the change in circumstances-"

"Yes, I know," she said, agitated, getting up and leaning against the kitchen counter. She fanned herself with her hands. "It's warm in here. The movers are taking a break, I think they forgot to latch the back door." She glared at his raised eyebrow. "What do you _want_ me to say, Charlie? I was young. And stupid! I don't think you have any idea how scared I was then-"

"An apology would be nice, to start with," he said, keeping calm. His rage from the other day had lessened, but he was not about to reignite it. "For lying to me. For not telling me the truth, even years later. If you were scared, why didn't you _tell_ me? I would have listened to you," he said sincerely.

He thought of the boy who loved her, and the man that boy became. _That young man would have listened. It would have been difficult, but I would have listened._

 _Even a decade later, I would have been willing to save our marriage._

She brushed tears out of her eyes, sniffed and peered at the opposite wall. "I was scared of losing you," she said hoarsely. "To Chicago, to dreams beyond my reach. To other women." She shook her head and laughed, bitterness evident in her voice. "And then I lost you anyway. Ironic."

 _I wasn't hers to lose. I've never been hers. Not the man she thought she had, anyway._

 _She's telling the truth for once. I'd feel sorry for her if she could have been honest before, been more willing to admit her own mistakes._

"You didn't trust me to do what you wanted, so you forced my hand," he said, his anger mounting. "You used me, and I was fool enough to go along with it." He dropped his hands to his knees with a slap. "More than half my life was spent with you, and I can't think why." Regret made the bile rise in his throat.

"If I used you, then you used me as well," she spat at him, her temper flaring. "I did get pregnant once after we were married, I'm sure you remember. You made a fool out of yourself. Going on about someone you never met!" Tears shone in her eyes. "Truthfully, I was glad when I lost the baby. Even then, I could tell you loved it more than me."

"That's not true, and you know it!" he cried. "It's always been about _you_ , hasn't it?" He shook his head and stood up. "I never used you, Alice. You were my wife. I loved you more than you deserved. I tried to make you happy, but that was an impossible task."

"It wouldn't have been impossible if you hadn't been so stubborn," she seethed. "All I asked of you was that you give up the cabin-"

" _All_ you asked?" he laughed bitterly. " _All?_ Even before we married, I bent over backwards to please you. The cabin was the only place I could be _me_ , the real person," he brushed his fingers along the counter. She wouldn't look at him. "Not the henpecked husband. I would have lost my sanity years ago if I hadn't had it. But you were _scared_?" He raised his eyebrows at her expression.

"Yes, I was scared," she said, her voice hard. "Obviously, you've _never_ been frightened, or afraid of what people think. Come to think of it, that's probably why you had an affair, you didn't _care_ how brazen your behavior was. Well, some of us care about what others think," Her eyes dared him to respond. He refused to let her bait him.

"Fear doesn't justify lying to your husband for three decades," he replied, working to keep his voice even. "Or youth, or stupidity. I was young then as well. And probably had more than a few foolish ideas in my head. But I never lied to you. Not until the affair," he ran a hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea what it felt like when I read your letter to Beryl?"

He could tell by the look on her face that he'd struck a nerve. Her eyes darted around the room, from the wall to the floor. It reminded him of a trapped animal. He swallowed, remembering the horrible moment.

"To say that I felt as though I had been stabbed would not do it justice," he said quietly. "It wasn't just about lying to me that you were pregnant when you weren't. It was about our marriage. Our whole life together. It was all a _lie_. A _lie_ ," he repeated. "How did you live with yourself all those years? I was ignorant, but you-" he blew out a breath, "-you knew _exactly_ what you were doing."

"Did you really expect me, the way I was back then," she asked, avoiding his question, "to tell you the truth? It was humiliating going to university only to find out how little they wanted me. It would have been beyond the pale telling you I was jealous of other women!"

He snorted. "Yes, I _did_ expect you to tell me the truth. We were best friends, remember? Telling the truth would have made you more sympathetic," he said, looking her in the eye. "More human. You always portrayed yourself as perfect. The girl who everyone wanted to be, or to be with." A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "I always knew you weren't perfect. But a little humility from you would have gone a long way."

Scoffing, she threw her hands in the air. "You're not listening. I was not raised to display humility, I was raised to have a life that I wanted. A life I deserved!" She pointed, gesturing to her chest. "A life where my world was settled, and made sense!"

"Pride, entitlement, arrogance," he ticked them off on his fingers. The more upset she became, the more composed he felt. "A life you _deserved?_ Life is a gift. It's not static. The nature of life is _not_ permanence, but flux." He shook his head. "As it is, your 'world', as you put it, is rather contradictory. You were perfectly fine lying to me, and then when you were unhappy, you went away to break out of your shell for a while. Until you were ready to come back home." He pulled at the cuff of his sleeve. "You never thought of me, or anyone, except yourself."

It was strange. He was still angry, and yet it was overshadowed by the feeling of finally understanding her.

 _She never knew the real me, even though I tried to show her. I think I always knew who she was, but I didn't want to believe it._

"I pity you," he said, meaning it. "You've spent your whole life too frightened to pursue your dreams, and it's made you miserable. But that is your _own fault_. You still have time, if you will just find the courage to step out of the box you've created around yourself." He put his hands in his pockets. "You know, I don't think you needed me as much as you thought you did."

For the first time, he thought their divorce might liberate her as much as it did him.

Her face crumbled. It was as though her mask had shattered, revealing the insecure, fragile woman underneath. He had never seen her look so defeated. She wept, her hands covering her face. "You always knew me too well. If you could have said that to me years ago, maybe-"

"I tried," he said. "You didn't listen. I take the blame for a small part of it. Me, your friends, and your parents. We may have enabled you to stay in your safe cocoon, but ultimately, _you_ made the choices you did. It's long past time to grow up, Alice."

Bent over, she cried, covering her face. She only stopped to grab a paper towel to wipe her eyes and nose. He checked his watch. He'd give her five minutes more to evade an apology, or any reasonable explanation, and then he'd leave. Forever.

She slowly calmed down. "I'm sorry," she whispered, staring at the floor. His eyes widened in surprise. _I wasn't expecting that._

"I'm sorry for lying to you," she repeated thickly, staring off into the distance, "It was wrong. A terrible thing to do. I don't-I don't have anything to justify why I lied to you for so long. Yes, I was afraid of losing you, but that's wasn't a reason to not trust you with the truth." She ran fingers through her tangled ponytail before undoing it and pulling her hair into a tighter one. Stray wisps of hair poked out, trailing down the side of her face. She twisted a finger around the strands.

The weight in his chest seemed to ebb somewhat. He surprised himself with the words that came out of his mouth. "I'm sorry too," he said quietly. "For the affair. I want to be honest with you – I don't regret my actions-" she sucked air through her teeth "-but I do regret hurting you." _Even after finding out your secret._ He knew she didn't deserve his regret, but he said it out of consideration of what had been.

He didn't regret his actions, and couldn't. The affair had brought him to the woman he loved.

"Thank you," she muttered, clearing her throat. "Can I ask you something? I'm just curious."

"Sure," he rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves. The room was warm.

"How long have you loved Elsie?"

It was as much the tone of the question as the words she said that nearly bowled him over. There was no malice, no sarcasm. Just a quiet voice with a hint of sadness. He decided to risk the truth.

"Well," he scratched the back of his neck, "as a friend, for several years. As…something more, about a year, maybe a bit longer."

"She was your friend first," she scuffed her shoe on the floor. "Beryl told me that she's helped out at Downton when the staff was ill, when you were short-handed. Without you asking her."

"Yes," he said, wondering where she was going with this. She looked him in the face.

"I never did that. She helped you at the cabin too…she's always accepted the real you. I tried for years to make you into someone _I_ wanted you to be," she tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, crossing her arms.

 _Finally, the truth_. He felt a rush of emotion, thinking of Elsie.

"If I hadn't lied to you…do you think we would have been happy? I think it would have changed me. Our relationship may have been different," she tilted her head.

 _What might have been?_ Thinking hard, he tried to be honest. "I don't think so. We're different people, you and I. Truthfully, I think we were together because it was convenient. For both of us."

 _Whereas from the moment I met Elsie, we had a connection. I think we would have ended up together no matter what._

He glanced at his watch. "I have to go." She nodded, her eyes red.

"I'll walk you out." They walked back onto the porch, into the steamy summer air.

"Where are you moving?" he asked. "Someplace in town?"

"No. Hazard," she said. "An apartment. It's not big, but it's enough."

He doubted he would ever see her again. Standing next to his car, he felt all the awkwardness of the moment.

 _How do I say goodbye to my one-time friend and almost ex-wife of thirty years? A handshake?_

His anger had dissipated. He didn't hate her. He pitied her a bit, that was true. Mostly he didn't care what happened to her in the future.

Once again, she surprised him. She raised herself on her toes and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Goodbye, Charlie," she said.

"Goodbye, Ally," he replied. _Old habits die hard._

By the time he was at the end of the driveway and turning onto the street, she had vanished into the house.

He never saw her again.


	31. The Beginning

They were married on a Friday afternoon in a little room at the courthouse. Other than the judge (a woman, Judge Travis) and the bride and groom, there were only nine other people there: Beryl, John and Anna, Becky, Adam, and their nieces and nephews.

"We'll have a bigger celebration probably next spring," Elsie said later, as they sat in a small private room at The Red Fox. "But for now, this is wonderful." She squeezed her new husband's hand lovingly. Neither of them had stopped smiling all afternoon.

"You'll all be invited to that, of course," Charles added. "Along with our other friends who weren't able to be here today."

"And the baby will be there too, Uncle Charlie!" Liza piped from across the table. Everyone laughed.

"That's right, they'll have a little ring bearer or a flower girl," Beryl ruffled her niece's hair. "Me, I think they'll need a smart suit for a young man."

"Here, here," Jason tapped his fork against his water glass. Emily's mouth dropped open, and she elbowed him in the side.

"No _way_ ," she protested dramatically. "It's a girl, I _know_ it!"

"That's what I think too," Anna said with a smile. Emily whirled to smirk at her brother.

" _See_ , Anna thinks it's a girl too! And Liza AND Dad!" Charles cocked an eyebrow at Adam.

"Really?"

Adam held up his hands as if to ward off an attack. "I just said if I had to guess, I think the baby's a girl. I'm not picking sides, I'll be happy either way."

"I think the same as you," John agreed, his arm around Anna. "I think Charlie will have to deal with a lot of tiny dresses and pink lace."

"What do _you_ think, Beck?" Beryl asked. Becky sighed.

"I didn't want to have to give my opinion, but since we're all giving our predictions…" she bit her lip in an uncanny imitation of her sister. "I think it's a boy."

"WHOO!" Jason cheered, his arms over his head. "Go Mom!" Elsie and Becky laughed. Elsie turned to the figure sitting on the other side of Charles.

"Brandon, what do you think?" Her oldest nephew shrugged, a hint of a smile on his face.

"I'm not guessing," he said firmly. Charles slapped him on the back.

"Neither am I. That way, we can't be wrong."

"Exactly," Brandon nodded. The two fist-bumped. There was a general chorus of boos and groans.

"That's _cheating_ , you have to guess!" Anna insisted, leaning on her elbows.

"Wait," Beryl cried. "Elsie, what do _you_ think?"

The bride grinned, a glimmer in her eyes. "Oh, I think I have an unfair advantage."

"Of course you do," Beryl insisted. "So tell us what you think, and we'll know who's closer to the truth."

Elsie glanced at Charles, who looked curious. "I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but I am _not_ telling. It's my secret. Besides," she rubbed her belly fondly. "It would be horrible if my instinct were wrong. It's not as though I prefer one or the other. I don't."

"Boooooo," Jason groaned. "You're as bad as Uncle Charlie!"

"Well, we'll all know soon enough," Becky said, an affectionate smile on her face. Charles leaned over, a movement that set off everyone clinking their cutlery against their glasses. The newlyweds gave each other a long, lingering kiss. Charles finished by lifting his wife's left hand and kissing it softly. It was decorated by a small, golden ring.

"Yes, we will," he murmured.

0000000000000

 _ **Six months previously**_

 _They knew it would be difficult, but neither one had expected the separation to be so excruciating. Charles felt as though he were living underwater. Sleep eluded him. The little he did get was haunted with dreams of his lover._

 _He had no idea he talked in his sleep._

 _Alice was all too aware. She had hoped to forget, or at least attempt to forget, who it was who had entranced him. But hearing Elsie's name from her husband's lips nearly every night made forgetting impossible._

 _Elsie cried frequently. She grew to appreciate the closed door that separated her office from Beryl's. Every thought of him hurt. She wanted to hold onto her anger, the unfairness of the situation, but it was overshadowed by overwhelming loss._

 _In her blackest moods she had trouble finding something to live for._

 _Working at Downton became another place of torture. Charles found himself often staring down the corridor from the lobby to the restaurant, aching to see her. She kept out of sight, avoiding him. He knew she was trying to make his life easier by doing so. Still, he lived for the rare moments when he caught a glimpse of her._

 _He wondered if he was going mad._

 _After his wife's seemingly sincere intentions of working on their marriage had been stated, he was astonished when nothing changed. Alice still continued about her everyday routine. It was clear to him she wanted to forget about the affair; for that, he could hardly blame her. But she sometimes lashed out at him, blaming his behavior for the way she was treated in the community. She was convinced everyone was laughing at her. He wasn't so sure. He_ _was_ _sure people talked about them. That was perfectly normal. But he was angry at her refusal to seek counseling._

 _She was not willing to work on their marriage. To change. It was the only reason he had returned to her._

 _He began to lose weight again._

 _Elsie had rarely been ill all of her life, even with frequent traveling. Da had told her when she was a child she had the constitution of his grandmother. Her great-grandmother had worked her entire life and died in her sleep when she was ninety-four._

 _Aged only forty-two, Elsie's body was failing her. Her back ached constantly. More than once, she found herself holding onto the wall in her office, trying to get the room to stop spinning around her. She was losing weight, too. She chalked it up to stress. And bad eating habits. But there were other, weird symptoms._

 _She couldn't stand the smell of bacon anymore. It was a major problem, as the scent wafted everywhere throughout the restaurant every morning. It made her feel sick. She bought a small fan and turned it on every morning, trying to rid her office at least of the smell._

 _Sometimes the thought of any food nauseated her. Other times, she'd clean her plate and still feel hungry._

 _Leaving Lexington after visiting Becky, she stopped at a grocery store to pick up some things she needed at home. She was walking down the aisle that held feminine products when the thought hit her like a bolt out of the blue._

 _ **Oh my God, am I**_ _ **pregnant**_ _ **?**_

 _There was only one way to find out. She bought a package of tests, knowing either way she'd take more than one. Just to be sure. The drive home took forever._

 _She and Charles had used protection, but she knew any of it could fail. More importantly, she also knew they hadn't been entirely careful._

 _ **What if I am? What will I do? Terminate the pregnancy?**_

 _ **You might not be. It might just be your body responding to emotional distress.**_

 _ **But if I**_ _ **am**_ _ **?**_

 _She pulled off the road and cried. If she had had a short-term relationship, or even a longer-term one with someone else, she would seriously consider an abortion. But if she was pregnant_ _ **now**_ _, at this time of her life, it would probably be her last chance to have a biological child. If she wanted one._

 _And if she was, then Charles was the father. And she loved him as she had never loved, nor would ever love, anyone else._

 _She in no way felt ready to be a mother. She had been content to watch Becky be one, and was proud of her sister for the way she'd created a family life that they never had as children. But Becky had Adam._

 _Elsie was alone._

 _She set the little timer on the stove while she waited. It startled her when it went off. She looked at the test._

 _Positive._

 _She took another one._

 _Positive._

 _She took two more, her heart already knowing the answer in advance._

 _Positive. Positive._

 _She didn't know if she was calm, or if it was numbness. Somehow she managed to sleep, but still felt like she was having an out-of-body experience the next morning when she went to work._

 _It was probably shock, she told herself._

 _An entirely different emotion took hold when she stepped on a piece of paper that had been slipped under her office door._

 _It was a note from Alice. Asking to meet._

00000000000000

 **A/N: And…we're back to the beginning regarding flashbacks, so that's the last one. Sorry if I disappointed anyone with the no wedding thing. Please review and let me know what you think! Thank you!**


	32. The Most Beautiful

The Carsons settled into a routine, finishing the baby's room and rearranging other things in their home. Mrs. Carson didn't require many changes.

"The best thing about my new home is you being in it," Elsie insisted soon after moving in. "I'm not about to start changing everything in here." Her eyes twinkled. "Well, maybe we could find a different place for the deer's head in the living room."

Five weeks after their wedding, Becky called Charles at Downton. She had taken her sister to the hospital. Six days after her due date, Elsie was finally in labor.

The drive to Pikeville seemed to take an eternity.

"I'm glad I came down when I did," Becky told him when she met him in the hospital lobby. "She was with me when I went into labor with Brandon, and I wanted to be there for her."

"I'm so glad you were," Charles said as they hurried to Elsie's room. He was a little surprised to find his wife standing up, pacing the room.

She held onto him for a long hug. "I'm better, now you're here," she said into his chest. He felt her smile when he kissed her. "Not that your presence makes the pain go away. But knowing you're here gives me strength."

"Beryl and Daisy sent something with me that should help build your strength," He grinned when he opened the box they had sent with him. There was a full meal, plus a couple of extra snacks for later. The sisters exchanged a knowing grin at the familiar sight of apple tart.

Elsie said the hospital food wasn't _that_ bad. "Don't tell Beryl I said that," she warned. They promised. After she ate, she wanted to "move a bit", as she said.

He kept one arm securely around her, and held her hand with the other. They walked down the hallway past the nurses' station.

"Becky told me labor would be like this," Elsie squeezed his arm. "Like a roller coaster." Charles kissed her temple.

"You're doing wonderfully." He rubbed her back. She rolled her eyes, and the familiar motion made him smile.

"Thank you, but it isn't that bad…yet." They continued walking. She winced at one point, and crushed his fingers, but didn't say a word. She only breathed out, a long breath through her lips.

Charles's eyebrows fused together. "We should go back to your room." She shook her head.

"No. I want to keep moving. For now."

They finished walking around the square of rooms, and started again. They passed Becky, who was chatting with a nurse.

"Doing all right, Elsie?" the young woman wearing scrubs asked.

"Just grand, Ethel, thank you." Elsie suppressed another wince. Charles gave the two women a tight smile. Ethel called after them.

"Are _you_ all right, Mr. Carson?"

"Just fine," he replied, ignoring Elsie coughing to cover a laugh. "Redheads," he muttered, "there must be a genetic tendency toward sarcasm."

Elsie burst out laughing. "Has it occurred to you, Charlie, that our child might have red hair?"

"God give me strength if that's the case," he groaned, looking toward the ceiling. Elsie put her arm around him, shaking with laughter.

"John told me your Grandmother Pierce had red hair. So it _is_ a possibility."

The pair continued walking until Elsie doubled over with the intensity of the contractions. After they returned to the room, she urged her husband to wait in the waiting room. He rubbed her back as she sank onto the bed.

"Are you _sure_ you want me to wait outside? I can stay with you," he asked again. They had planned this earlier – he being there for the early hours, then Becky taking over. But at that moment, he didn't know if he wanted to leave her.

"Yes," she said, her breath short. "Please, Charlie, I don't want you to see me in pain." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Becky's been through this four times. I will see you after, I love you-"

He kissed her, whispering his love for her, for their child. Becky promised to come out and give him updates as often as she could.

000000000000000

The hours crawled by. He tried to read, but couldn't concentrate. The TV droned in the corner. Becky emerged a few times to update him on Elsie's labor, which progressed steadily, if slowly. His heart jumped painfully every time his sister-in-law appeared. It was a great relief when John arrived at seven in the evening, bringing a suspicious brown-paper bag with him.

" _Whiskey?_ " Charles whispered, incredulous. "Why would I want that?"

"To calm your nerves," John surreptitiously looked over his shoulder before forcing a shot glass into Charles's hand. He poured it expertly. "You're tight as a drum. You need to relax! Now drink that, so I can put it away."

Charles rolled his eyes, but obeyed. He hated to admit it, but he felt himself relax slightly after taking two shots. John put the bag carefully under his chair. They spent the next several hours talking about anything. Everything. Debating over wine versus whiskey. Fishing. John and Anna's store. Growing up in the mountains.

The waiting room was quiet. It was past eleven at night, and John had gone to call Anna. Charles was staring off into space when he suddenly heard his name.

"Charles?"

The familiar lilt and thin figure of Dr. Clarkson. He shot to his feet. The doctor smiled.

"It's over, and both mother and child are fine." Charles sagged in relief, almost feeling dizzy. _She's fine. They're both fine._

Behind him, the door flew open, and Becky raced into the room. "Charlie!" She gave him an enormous hug to match her smile, and he couldn't help laughing. She was, literally, bouncing up and down. She pushed him toward the door. "I have to call Adam, go back and see them-"

He didn't need to be told twice.

00000000000

Standing in the doorway of the room, he knew he would remember what he saw for the rest of his life. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he was thirty, running into a breathtaking woman before Adam's wedding.

Her auburn locks rested on her bare shoulders, the sheet pulled up. Her face was red, but only added to the glow that she seemed to wear.

She didn't look up right away. Completely enthralled by the infant in her arms, she only tore her gaze away when he said her name.

"Elsie?"

Her dark blue eyes glimmered. "He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

 _He._

His entire chest constricted. Tears ran down his face. Stumbling to the bed, he sat down, sliding an arm around her.

"A – son?" he whispered, taking in the tiny boy. "Is he really ours?" A headful of thick black hair. Elsie's nose and cheekbones. Charles thought he saw his own mother Darlene in the shape of his son's eyebrows. The boy's ears were a spitting image of Elsie's.

The baby's chin was undoubtedly his. As were the shape of his hands.

 _Someone this precious could not have come from me._

She laughed through her own tears, trying not to disturb their son, who stirred in her arms. "Yes, love. We get to take him home with us, or so I've been told."

"I love you," he breathed. "God, you are so beautiful." They kissed deeply as he stroked her face. She lingered on his lips before she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you so much, Charlie. He-" her breath caught. "-he came out of our love."

"That he did," Charles's voice cracked. He tried to wipe away tears, but gave up. He tucked several stray hairs behind her ear, marveling at its similarity with the baby. "Are you all right? Dr. Clarkson said you were fine."

"Tired," she sighed, fiddling with the sheet. "Sore. But when he came – it didn't matter anymore." She cleared her throat, her voice slightly hoarse. "Would you like to hold him?"

He had been dying to ever since he came into the room. He held out his hands, gently cradling the baby's head. It almost disappeared in his right hand. "I think he looks like the name we picked, don't you?"

"I do," she smiled, wiping a tear away at the sight of her husband and son. _These are the moments we live for._

"Hello, Alexander John Carson," he rumbled, kissing the smooth skin on his forehead, touching his nose. He startled slightly when young Alex stretched, blinking his eyes.

"Oh!" Elsie cried softly, scooting forward. "I haven't seen him open his eyes yet!"

Alex blinked slowly, one eye opening, then the other. He suddenly turned his head when Elsie hummed under her breath.

"He knows you," Charles laughed quietly. "He knows his mam." He tried to moved his arms slightly, nervous about the angle that Alex had moved into. _The last thing I want to do is lose my grip on him_.

"He does indeed," Elsie lifted a tiny hand and kissed it. "He know his Da, too. He's heard your voice before. But never from this close." She grinned and bit her lip, seeing the look on Charles's face. "You won't break him. He's half Carson, half Hughes." She leaned over, kissing Alex's cheek. "Not even the mountain could break him."

"No," Charles agreed. He gazed at their son, who was yawning. "We love you, lad. Soon, we'll take you home and you can see it for yourself."


	33. The Surprise

Elsie awoke later than normal, but still early. Birds were chattering in the early dawn. Charles snored on, his arms wrapped around her.

Sleep would not return. No matter how much she wanted it.

 _The price you pay for having children is never sleeping the same way again_.

Becky had warned her, she thought ruefully. She turned to look at her husband, smiling at his relaxed expression, his wild hair. _Like someone else I know._

Alex was stirring in his room. Yawning, she got up as quietly as she could and slipped on an old t-shirt of Charles's before padding next door.

"Good morning, my wee lad," she smiled, leaning over his crib. His mouth split into a wide grin, showing off the few teeth he owned. Elsie picked him up and blew a raspberry on his belly before cuddling him. "Let's go outside, hmmm?"

She settled into the rocking chair on the back porch, enjoying the sound of Solomon Creek as well as the gentle breeze. Alex fretted and batted his arms. Humming, she shook her head as he began to nurse.

She knew she should start weaning him; he was nine months old already. Her head demanded it. Beryl and the staff had been lovely and accommodating, but it was time. And it would be nice to have her body back. _Charles would like that, too…_

But her heart begged her for more time. Alex was her boy, her bairn, and once he was weaned she would never have this precious time back.

For several minutes, Charles watched them from the window. Elsie was lost in thought. He finally stretched, got up, and made her tea before joining them on the porch.

"Hello, darling," he rumbled, his stubble scratching her face with his kiss. "You were up early." He set her steaming tea on the table. He kissed Alex lightly, ruffling his hair.

"Thank you," she shrugged, the t-shirt half off her shoulder. "I couldn't go back to sleep. And then I heard him."

It took Charles several seconds to register what she said. It had more to do with how ravishing she looked rather than with sleepiness. "Well," he swallowed, running a hand through his hair, "if you need to rest later today, let me know. Does Beryl need you to come in later?"

"No," she said thankfully. "Breakfast is the busiest time today, then most people will be going home." She looked up at him, a wry grin on your face. "What, you _aren't_ working today? A holiday weekend, and Downton full? For shame, Mr. Carson."

He gave her a smile, which grew when he caught her looking at his bare chest. "It's a perk of being the owner. _I_ don't have to work holidays. Unless I want to."

00000000000

The rest of the day went by lazily. Elsie did indulge herself early in the afternoon, taking a short nap.

Alex rubbed his eyes as they ate supper. "I think he's still tired out from yesterday," Charles said.

Elsie laughed. "Poor laddie. So much excitement – the parade, the sparklers, Emily's friends playing with him," she leaned on her hand, watching her son fondly. Charles got him out of the swing and dandled him on his knee, holding him steady.

"He'll be walking soon," he kissed his head. "Brandon and Liza had him walking around the living room, taking turns holding his hands." Elsie's eyes sparkled.

"Are you ready for that?"

He tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you?"

0000000000

He put Alex to bed, closing the door quietly. Elsie was in the kitchen. She was just finishing the clean-up.

"He was out," Charles said, satisfaction evident in his voice. "Almost from the moment I laid him down. I'll have to thank him later."

"What for?" she asked, confused. She hung up the towel to dry.

"For assisting me in my devious plan." He took her hand and led her out to the back porch. A fire glowed in the chimenea. Above them, the setting sun was hidden behind the mountain. They settled on the wicker couch. Elsie cuddled up to Charles, who finished pouring a glass of wine. He put his arm around her.

For a long time, there was silence between them.

"This is nice," she murmured. "If you had not come up with a plan, I would have."

"Oh?" he turned towards her, setting his empty glass down.

"Yes," she whispered. She leaned closer and gave him a languid kiss. He moaned, his hand trailing down her back. She knelt on the couch, her hands on his chest. "I wanted to have some time…alone with you."

In response, he pulled her onto his lap, her legs wrapped around his torso. Their kisses grew more heated as the sky darkened and the fire burned itself out.

She whispered her need as his lips savored her neck. Getting up, she pulled him with her. He kissed her hands for a moment before he picked her up and carried her to bed.

The radio crackled behind them, forgotten.

 _Just let me whisper things you've never heard before_

 _Just let me touch you…just let me touch you for a while…_

For a time after Alex was born, they had not been intimate. But Charles had been pleasantly surprised when Elsie initiated contact. Although he was gradually becoming more forward, he still let her take the lead most of the time.

He could never get enough of her. She was his wife, his best friend, his perfect mate.

Laughing, she came undone at his touch. It came as something of a surprise to her that the physical side of their relationship was as strong as it had been before. She gasped his name, her fingers in his hair.

"My man, _a ghraidh_ ," she breathed, the tempo of their dance quickening. " _Yes_ , Charles, _oh_ -"

From her frantic moans, he knew she wanted more.

Wanted him.

"Oh God, I love you," he cried. "I love you, my Elsie-" He let out a sound halfway between a yell and a sigh, his breath hot against her shoulder.

They danced, touched, loved.

The sun set. A slight breeze stirred the trees outside, rustling the leaves.

The lovers' dance ended.

Talking, their fingers laced together, they marveled at how far they had come.

Both also acknowledged, in whispers and giggles, that it was a good thing their bed did _not_ rest against Alex's bedroom wall. And that their son slept soundly.

00000000000

It came as no surprise to either of them when Alex took his first wobbly steps less than two weeks later.

It was a definite surprise when Elsie found out she was pregnant just before their son's first birthday.

It was a complete shock when their twins were born the following April; Christopher Thomas, with a voice to match his father's, and Edward Charles, with hair to match his mother's.

Their family and friends were delighted. Some people in town still whispered when they walked by, though. Beryl was convinced a lot of it was envy hidden by self-righteousness.

"You've both got a beautiful family, your health, and successful careers," she said to Elsie during the twins' first Thanksgiving. "And you and Charlie are happy, and more in love than ever. That's more than most folks can say."

They could not agree more.

000000000000

 **A/N: The song on the radio is by Alison Krauss & Union Station, "Let Me Touch You for Awhile". Personally, I think it's one of the sexiest songs I've ever heard.**

 **There will probably be two more chapters to this…still working out the details. Please review if you have time. Thank you all!**


	34. The Question

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews! I'm sorry to disappoint, but there are no girls for Chelsie in this fic…maybe I'll keep them for another story. I just saw this pairing with boys. Also, I am posting the last chapter at the same time as this one so please READ THIS FIRST.**

 **Another time jump…**

"Where to?" Charles looked in the rearview mirror.

"Pizza!"

"Aunt Beryl's!"

"Pi—zz—aaa!" Eddie started low, then worked to a high falsetto. Elsie failed to suppress a snort of laughter.

"Pizza it is, then." She exchanged an amused glance with her husband. He smiled back before looking over his shoulder briefly.

"Alex, are you all right with pizza? We'll go to the restaurant on Sunday," he reminded the twelve-year-old.

"Yeah, it's fine. At least they play music there!" Alex didn't seem to be too bothered, bent over the Ipad.

"Music? It's top-40 trash," Charles muttered. He shook his head. _Alex listens to everything._

"Just remember, no one tell Beryl where we went for dinner!" Elsie called to the backseat.

"Don't tell Beryl, don't tell Beryl, don't tell Beryl, don't tell Beryl…" a chorus of repetitive phrases bounced around the car before the boys dissolved in laughter.

"Maybe taking them out to eat after the game wasn't such a good idea," Charles commented under his breath. "We should have just gone home and tied them to the roof instead."

Elsie laughed, the back of her hand against her mouth. "If we did that, they'd start eating the shingles. They're not children, they're more like a horde of locusts." She jumped slightly, and leaned around her chair. "Christopher Thomas _Carson_! How many times have I told you – _don't kick the seat!_ "

The backseat went silent.

"Sorry, Mam." Elsie gave them one last glare, an eyebrow raised, before turning to the front.

They were quiet until Charles pulled into the parking lot of the chain restaurant. As he got out of the car, he heard Eddie whisper to Alex, "She's _scary_ when she looks like that. How does she _do_ that?"

"How do you think? She's a mother," Alex rolled his eyes at his brother. "I'd rather hear Dad yell."

"Uh- _huh._ "

000000000000

Half of the basketball team was eating pizza, so dinner was almost as noisy as the game had been. Chris's friend Seth spent most of their meal kneeling over the top of the booth trying to talk to the twins. Charles was appalled with his behavior.

"Are we the only parents that teach their children how to sit at the table?" he complained under his breath to Elsie.

"No," she muttered, "they just don't listen all the time. Christopher," she sniffed, "you _definitely_ need to take a shower before bed tonight. Otherwise your room will smell like the gym tomorrow."

"Okay," he crammed the rest of his third piece of pizza in his mouth, making his cheeks balloon like a chipmunk's.

"Chew and swallow your food so you don't choke, _please_ ," Charles groaned. "And Eddie, I'm glad to see you eat your salad, but could you use your fork? That's what it's for."

Alex left the table after being excused to join some school friends playing vintage video games. Chris was happy to talk about the details of the game again.

"When I hit that three, I heard _all_ of you, even Alex," he grinned, drumming his knuckles.

" _Whaaat?_ " Charles asked in mock-surprise. "You heard _me_ too?" Chris tilted his head.

"Silly Da, we _always_ hear you."

Elsie squeezed Charles's knee under the table.

0000000000

It was late. The boys were in bed. Elsie flipped off the living room light, plunging the room into semi-darkness. She found Charles folding towels and stacking them on the dryer.

"Clean ones for tomorrow," he said. "Are they asleep?"

"What do _you_ think?" she murmured low, running her hands over his backside. He dropped a towel on the floor.

"Yes?" he said in a strangled voice. She wrapped her arms around his waist and unbuckled his belt without looking. He turned around and kissed her, all mouth, hot and wet. She moaned.

"Definitely yes," she whispered against his lips. "Just promise me one thing, Charles," she rasped as his lips descended her neck.

"Hmmmm?" he smiled against her earlobe.

"Don't wake them up."

0000000000

She lay half-sprawled against him, her head against his chest. His hand caressed a lazy circle on her back. He chuckled.

"' _Don't wake them up,_ '" he quoted. "I thought _you_ were going to wake them up – especially the second time."

"Well, I didn't," her muffled voice was sleepy. "And even if I did-or _we_ did, you weren't exactly quiet yourself-it's not like they'll tell us tomorrow."

"True," he pulled at the curl on his forehead. "They're getting too old to think a monster's in Mam and Da's room." Elsie buried her face in her pillow, shaking with laughter.

"Poor Eddie," she whispered. "How old was he? Four? I'll never forget that. Thank _God_ the lamp was off!" The bed shook as Charles laughed.

"I remember the door banging open and this little voice yelling, 'Da? Are you okay?' And you," he wiped tears away, "frantically grabbing the quilt in the dark, you almost took my eye out!"

They giggled for several minutes before quieting down again. Elsie lay with her back against Charles's chest, his arms around her. She yawned.

He thought about letting her sleep, but knew he should tell her about his recent conversation.

"Alex has been asking questions." He said against her hair.

She breathed deeply, turned to the ceiling. "About-what? Sex?"

"No. After I talked to him about _that_ , he didn't seem eager to bring it up again." He kissed her head. "You know he's good friends with Kylie Moore. She's Judge Travis's granddaughter. At Kylie's birthday last Friday, the judge was there, and asked Alex how we were doing."

"What did he say?" Elsie moved a hair out of her face.

"He told me that he said we were fine. And then he told me Judge Travis told _him_ that our wedding was the most memorable of all the ones she's ever done. She told him she had never seen two people more in love than we were."

"Really?" Elsie asked, linking her fingers through Charles's to feel his wedding band. "That was nice of her. But what did Alex ask you?"

He was silent for a moment, and her heart sank. She turned over to look at him. "What did he say?"

Charles touched her chin with his thumb. "Well he said, and I quote, 'Da, I know you and Mam got married in August. My birthday's in October. I know women are pregnant for nine months, I can do the math." He swallowed. "He asked me when I got divorced. So I told him the truth. Not every detail, of course, but the truth."

Her heart thumped painfully. "What did he say?" she repeated.

"He didn't say anything for a while, then he said that I must have loved you a lot. And I said I did." He kissed her forehead. "I do."

"What must he think of me?" she whispered, a lump in her throat. The thought that her own son might think less of her hurt.

"He said that you must have loved me a lot, too. Don't worry," he smoothed his finger over her brow. "He asked if _you_ had ever been married before, and when I told him no, he snorted and said, 'Well of course she'd get it right the _first_ time!'"

Elsie laughed, letting her tears escape. The pressure in her chest eased somewhat. She kissed his shoulder. "That's my lad!"

He rubbed her face clear. "Mmm-hmmm. He certainly is," he agreed. "Do you think I did the right thing?" he asked. "Should I have told him?"

"Yes, and yes," she said, with emphasis. She snuggled closer to Charles. "He and the twins will all know at some point, and I would much prefer they hear it from us rather than from someone else. Even family."

She drifted off to sleep soon after in his arms. He watched her body rise and fall, felt her heartbeat against his.

He didn't know if he would ever be able to adequately express what he felt for her, even to his own children. Talking to Alex had been something of a lesson. He had forced himself to open up as much as possible and as what was appropriate, to his as-of-yet not teen-aged son.

" _I loved her," he said quietly, his hands resting on his knees. "So, so much. I…couldn't imagine living without her." He smiled. "I still can't."_

 _Alex watched him intently. "Did you love your first wife?"_

 _ **He**_ _ **would**_ _ **ask that.**_

" _Yes," he swallowed, "when I was first married to Alice, I did. But by the time your mother moved here, we had grown apart. We didn't love each other like married people should."_

" _So you would have gotten a divorce anyway? Even if Mam hadn't moved here?"_

 _ **Eventually. Either that, or I would have died an early death.**_ _It hurt simply thinking of how unhappy he had been. "Yes."_

 _His son scuffed his shoe on the floor, and Charles resisted the urge to tell him not to. "So…you didn't just marry Mam because she was pregnant with me?"_

" _Oh my boy," he whispered, leaning forward and putting his hands on his shoulders. "No. No. I asked her before I knew she_ _was_ _pregnant. I would have married her even if she hadn't been carrying you. I would have married her if she was sixty years old!" Alex looked up, his eyes wide._

" _Wow, you_ _must've_ _loved her a lot!" He sighed. "Was_ _she_ _ever married before?"_

 _Charles shook his head. A grin split Alex's face, and he snorted in laughter. "Of course she'd get it right the first time! Seriously, Da," he wrinkled his nose in a perfect imitation of his mother. "She must've loved you a lot, too."_

" _She did," Charles said, his hand on his son's face. "She does love me, and I love her. Next to you and your brothers, she's the person I love most."_

 _Alex bit his lip. "Maybe not Chris and Eddie. Well, they're_ _okay_ _, I guess. And you're great, Da." He grinned. "But Mam's my favorite. Don't tell her I said that."_

 _Charles struggled not to cry. "I won't. But promise me YOU will."_

Alex promised. On Elsie's next birthday, she came into Charles's office in Downton, crying.

Her oldest son had sent her flowers.


	35. Jolene

**A/N: IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER, PLEASE GO READ IT FIRST.**

 **And this is the end, with yet another time jump. This one, however, has been planned since roughly chapter seven. I hope you all have enjoyed this. What started as just a weird AU fic premise developed into a story that I didn't expect. Thank you for reading, and reviewing!**

 **I love you all.**

The crowd was deafening, even with his earplugs. "Thank you!" Alex yelled into the microphone. "Thank you all so much!" He waited a minute for them to quiet down a little, and glanced back at the band. Matt and Tim's faces were beet red, and Eddie had sweat dripping off of his nose.

Alex looked back at the crowd. "We're going to take a fifteen-minute break. Be back in a few!"

He went to the back of the stage where the light wasn't shining right in his face, and dropped into a chair.

"I'm sorry it's so warm in here. You guys look like you're melting." Mrs. Lane, the club owner's wife, handed them water bottles. They all drank as though they were in the Sahara. Alex wiped his mouth.

"It just means we're popular," he grinned. "Anyway, it'd be a lot worse without the air-conditioning."

"We do our best to pay the electric bill on time," she smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Can I get you boys anything else? More water?"

"Sure, thanks, Mrs. Lane." When she went to the bar to get more, he texted Chris.

 _Alex Carson to Chris Carson_

 _Wish you were here in Austin with us. I'm keeping a lookout for cute girls._

 _CC to AC_

 _Thx. Working night shift at Downton. Should've gone w/ u and E and the band._

 _AC to CC_

 _Nah, you're where you're supposed to be. You'll be running it after you graduate, and after Branson retires._

 _CC to AC_

 _True. Tired of traveling yet? You'll be back in Bloomington when the semester starts again. I bet E's not tired._

 _AC to CC_

 _I'll be glad of a break. You know E, he's a born musician. Not as much into the girls as he used to be._

 _CC to AC_

 _Is he still going on about that girl he met in San Antonio? Where's she from?_

 _AC to CC_

 _Yeah. The British girl. Yorkshire? The one who called him "sexy ginger"_

 _AC to CC_

 _He won't shut up about her_

 _CC to AC_

 _Sounds serious_

 _AC to CC_

 _I think he's in love. For real._

 _CC to AC_

 _That's what I think too. He'd better b prepared when he's home. M &D smell something. Not to mention the aunts and Uncle Adam._

 _AC to CC_

 _I'll warn him. M &D all right?_

 _CC to AC_

 _The same_

 _AC to CC_

 _Have they shocked the new hostess at TRF yet? If not, they're slipping…_

 _CC to AC_

 _Daisy told me new girl caught M after lunch Tues buttoning up her shirt after D left. Why can't they be like normal middle-aged people, and keep their hands to themselves? WHY!?_

 _AC to CC_

 _Because they're not normal. They HAVE. NO. SHAME. Ugh, why did you remind me?_

 _CC to AC_

 _You asked about them. B/c you're a good son._

 _AC to CC_

 _Next time I won't. Tell them hello from us when you get a chance_

 _CC to AC_

 _When they have their clothes on, you mean_

 _AC to CC_

 _Yep. Thx. Ttyl_

"Another bottle of water, coming right up," the older lady handed it to him, and Alex took it gratefully.

"Thanks." He guzzled half of it before setting it down. _If Mam and Da were here, I'd throw it on them._

"May I ask _you_ for something, Alex?"

He wiped his sweaty face on his t-shirt. "Absolutely. What can I do for you? You and Pete have done _us_ the favor, having us play here two years in a row." It had been one of his and Eddie's proudest achievements – having their band play at a coveted live venue in the Sixth Street district in Austin. Such opportunities were hard to come by.

"It's been our pleasure. Y'all are talented musicians," she squinted into the multi-colored stage lights. "I just wanted to make a request during your next set."

"Sure, what would you like?"

"I wrote it down," she slipped him a piece of paper. "Do you know the song?"

He read the title. "Yeah, I know it. But you know it won't sound like the original, right?"

Mrs. Lane nodded. He quirked a sideways grin. "Why do you want this one? Does Ol' Pete have his eye on some pretty young thing?"

She laughed. "As if…no, actually, I was thinking about my first husband earlier today. He married again, had a family. The divorce was the right thing for him. And for me too."

He smiled. "You met your husband in Memphis, and then moved here."

"Exactly," she agreed. Her brown eyes were soft. He followed her view and they both smiled at Pete, who waved from the back of the room. "Alex…" she began, clasping her hands together. "I have to be honest with you. This will come as a shock, but I was married to your father once." She took a deep breath.

"I know," he said quietly. He had been thinking about saying something, but never could figure out how to start. _Well, it's out in the open now._

He ran his hand through his hair, unconscious of the fact that he looked exactly like his father. Or when he bit his lip he looked like his mother. "I…recognized your graduation picture in Pete's office."

 _Alice Neale who became Alice Carson who became Alice Lane._

 _Who hired us to play at the club._

"Well," she seemed surprised, adjusting her glasses, fingering a nonexistent white hair, "so you know as well. I guess it wasn't such a shock after all."

"No," he replied, leaning back, "but I'm glad you think divorcing my father was the right decision." _For you, because it was the best thing that happened to him._

 _And for our family._

"Yes, in the end, it was for the best. I couldn't be happier. Pete's my best friend." A warm smile spread across her face.

"I can tell," he sipped some more water. _She's a nice lady. Pretty._

 _Not as pretty as Mam._

 _Da never stood a chance. The pictures from when we were little…_

"How is he? Charlie?" she asked. "Is he happy?"

"Very," he cleared his throat. "They both are." He declined to mention that Da had retired the previous year. Or that the brothers were in the habit of calling the cabin half an hour before they arrived, just to give their parents warning of guests.

That would, he felt, be literally too much information.

"I'm glad to hear it," she said sincerely. "You and Eddie look like them, you know."

Alex nodded, scratched his neck. "Well…this is awkward." They both laughed.

"It doesn't have to be, if you don't want it to be," she said lightly. "Pete and I appreciate the band playing here, and would like to book you for next year too, if you want. I just wanted to come clean to you. It was bothering me, and Pete encouraged me to tell you."

"I'm glad you told me," he replied. "And thank you for the offer. We'll be happy to accept next year!"

Someone called for her, and she excused herself.

He felt a strange sort of peace knowing that they both knew.

The band began their next set, and played four songs before Alex stopped them.

"This next one is by request," he told the crowd. "We're doing a cover by The White Stripes, who covered this Dolly Parton classic. Hope you enjoy it." He bent over the guitar, and began the opening riff.

 _Jolene_

 _Jolene_

 _Jolene_

 _Jolene_

 _I'm beggin' you, please don't take my man_

Alex thought about his father Charles, married to Alice, and in love with Elsie. Elsie, in love with a married man. Alice, caught in the middle. He was glad he didn't know what any of it felt like.

 _He talks about you in his sleep_

 _And there's nothin' I can do to keep from cryin'_

 _When he calls your name_

 _Jolene_

Eddie joined in on the drums. Alex squinted through the bright lights, and saw Alice by the bar. He nodded at her before looking out at the crowd.

 _I had to have this talk with you_

 _My happiness depends on you_

 _And whatever you decide to do_

 _Jolene_

They played for another hour-and-a-half, and had three encores. It was almost four in the morning before they left.

0000000000

The next day, when the club opened at noon, Pete handed Alice a note addressed to her.

 _Alice,_

 _I'm glad we talked. It took a lot of courage to say something to me, but I'm glad you did. I'll see you tonight when the band comes to set up._

 _Thanks again,_

 _Alex Carson_


End file.
